HnnMlPi™ 


I     I 


Wlllll 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA 
LOS  ANGELES 


ANECDOTES 


BOYS. 


ENTERTAINING  NARRATIVES   AND   ANECDOTE8, 
ILLUSTRATIVE  OF  PRINCIPLES  AND    CHARACTER. 


HARYEY    XEWCOMB, 

ABTKOB    0?     ;i  HOW    TO    BE    A    LADY,"'       "HOT    TO    BE    A    MAS,"    ETC. 


SEVENTH   THOUSAND. 


BOSTON: 
GOULD      AND      LINCOLN 

NEW    YORK: 

SHELDON,  LAMPORT,  AND  BLAKEMAN. 

1854. 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1847, 

lir  Gould,  Kendall  and  Lincoln, 

In  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Court  of  the  District  of  Massachusetts 


PREFACE. 


I  have  noticed  that  young  people  are  fond 
of  reading  anecdotes,  narratives,  parables,  &c. 
This  taste  of  theirs  sometimes  leads  them  to 
devour  all  the  trash  that  comes  in  their  way, 
with  no  other  object  than  mere  amusement. 
But,  if  properly  guarded,  it  may  be  the  means 
of  conveying  truth  to  their  minds  in  a  form  not 
only  more  attractive,  but  more  readily  under- 
stood. The  design  of  this  book  is,  to  supply 
reading  of  this  kind,  which  shall  be  not  only 
entertaining  but  instructive.  I  never  write  for 
the  amusement  'of  the  reader  merely.  But  I 
am  glad  if  he  is  entertained  at  the  same  time 
that  he  is  instructed. 

This  book  is  not  a  mere  compilation  of 
stories.  Its  main  object  is  to  illustrate  truth 
and  character.  No  anecdote  has  been  admitted 
but  such  as  could  be  turned  to  this  account ;  and 

i* 

LIBRARY 


VI  PREFACE. 

if  suited  to  tins  purpose,  the  question  has  not 
been  asked  whether  it  vas  new  or  old.  But 
nearly  every  one  has  been  entirely  rewritten, 
presented  in  a  new  dress,  and  made  to  bear  on 
the  object  in  view.  The  work  was  suggested, 
while  writing  my  last  two  publications,  "How 
to  be  a  Man,"  and  "  How  to  be  a  Lady."  I  had 
designed  to  illustrate  the  topics  there  treated  of, 
in  this  manner,  but  could  not  find  space.  The 
favor  with  which  these  works  have  been  received, 
has  encouraged  me  to  undertake  something  of 
the  kind  separately.  I  have  prepared  two  vol- 
umes, one  for  boys  and  one  for  girls,  but  the 
matter  in  each  is  entirely  distinct.  The  same 
anecdote  is  in  no  instance  introduced  into  both 
books ;  though  in  some  cases  the  topics  are  simi 
lar.  They  form  a  pair,  for  the  rising  youth  of 
both  sexes ;  and  if  they  shall  contribute  in  any 
degree  towards  forming  their  characters,  aftei 
the  true  model,  my  object  will  be  attained. 

Grantville,  Mass.,  S>~pt.  1847. 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER   I. 

The  Boy  makes  the  Man. —  Benedict  Arnold  — 

George  Washington  —  Gov.  Ritner  —  Roger  Sherman.  •  •  9 

CHAPTER  II. 
Filial  Piety.  —  George  Washington  —  ohey  God 
rather  than  man  —  a  son's  love  —  filial  piety  rewarded  — 
filial  tenderness  —  filial  impiety  punished  —  think  how 
you  will  feel  when  your  parents  are  gone  —  benefit  of 
obedience  —  reward  of  disobedience  —  conscientious  obe- 
dience —  cheerful  obedience,  sullen  obedience,  and  diso- 
bedience.   16 

CHAPTER    m. 
Social  Virtues  and  Vices.  —  Brotherly  affection 
—  the  golden  rule  —  gratitude  and  benevolence  —  man- 
ners—  overcome  evil  with  good  —  use  of  the  tongue  — 
contention  —  punctuality. 31 

CHAPTER   IV. 
Bad  Company  and  Bad  Habits.  —  Green,  the  re 
formed  gambler  —  profaneness  — playing  truant  —  ruin 


Vlll  CONTENTS. 

of  a  deacon's  son — bad  books  —  intemperance-  -going 
to  the  theatre  —  gaming 70 

CHAPTER    V. 

Industry  —  Labor,  &c.  —  An    Indian    story  — 

business  first  and  then  pleasure  —  industry. 90 

CHAPTER    VI. 
True  Greatness.  —  Anecdotes  of  President  Jef- 
ferson, Chief  Justice  Marshall,  Chancellor  Kent,  and 
Dr.  Franklin. 97 

CHAPTER    VII. 
Advantages  of  Honesty.  —  Colbert  —  two  oppo 
site  examples  — fruits  of  dishonesty. 101 

CHAPTER    VIII. 

Pursuit  of  Knowledge.  —  Reading  —  love  of 

learnino-  —  dislike  of  study. 109 

CHAPTER    IX. 
Miscellaneous  Subjects.  —  Fickleness  —  ir.de 
pendence  of  character  —  contentment  —  the  old  black 
sheep. 115 

CHAPTER    X. 

Religion.  —  Religious  knowledge  —  the  Sabbath  ■— . 

early  piety  recommended  —  uncertainty  of  life. 124 


ANECDOTES  FOR  BOYS. 


CHAPTER  I. 


THE    BOY    MAKES    THE    MAN. 


MAN'S  character  is  formed 
early  in  life.  There  may  be 
some  exceptions.  In  some 
instances,  very  great  changes 
take  place  after  a  person  has 
grown  to  manhood.  But, 
even  in  such  cases,  many  of 
the  early  habits  of  thought, 
feeling,  and  action  still  remain. 
And  sometimes,  we  are  disappoint- 
ed in  the  favorable  appearances  of 
early  life.  Xot  unfrequently  the 
promising  boy,  in  youth  or  early  man- 
hood, runs  a  rapid  race  downward  in 
the  road  to  ruin.  All  the  promising 
appearances  failed,  because  they  were 
not  formed  upon  religious  principle  and  a  change 
of  heart.     But,  as  a  general  rule,  show  me  the 


10  BENEDICT   ARNOLD. 

boy,  and  I  will  show  you  the  man.     The  follow- 
ing cases  afford  .'Uustrations  of  this  principle. 


Benedict  Arnold. 

I  suppose  all  my  readers  have  heard  of  Bene- 
dict Arnold,  the  traitor ;  and  of  his  attempt  to 
betray  his  country  into  the  hands  of  the  British, 
during  the  Revolutionary  War.  His  name  is  a 
by-word  in  the  mouth  of  every  lover  of  liberty 
in  the  land.  But  there  are  few  that  know  how 
he  came  to  be  such  a  character.  When  we  come 
to  learn  his  early  history  we  feel  no  more  sur- 
prise. His  father  was  an  intemperate  man ; 
and  at  an  early  age,  Benedict  was  placed  with 
an  apothecary,  in  Norwich,  Connecticut,  his 
native  town.  His  master  soon  discovered  in 
him  the  most  offensive  traits  of  character.  He 
seemed  to  be  entirely  destitute  of  moral  prin- 
ciple, and  even  of  conscience.  He  added  to  a 
passionate  love  of  mischief  a  cruel  disposition  and 
a  violent,  ungovernable  temper.  He  had  no 
sympathy  with  any  thing  that  was  good.  His 
boyish  pleasures  were  of  the  criminal  and  unfeel- 
ing cast.  He  would  rob  the  nests  of  birds,  and 
mangle  and  maim  the  young  ones,  that  he  might 
be  diverted  by  their  mcther's  cries.     He  would 


BENEDICT  ARNOLD.  11 

throw  broken  pieces  of  glass  into  the  street, 
where  the  children  passed  barefooted,  that  they 
might  hurt  their  feet.  He  would  persuade  the 
little  boys  to  come  round  the  door  of  his  shop, 
and  then  beat  them  with  a  horse-whip.  All  this 
showed  a  malicious  disposition,  and  great  hard- 
ness of  heart.  He  hated  instruction  and  despised 
reproof;  and  his  master  could  not  instil  into  his 
mind  any  religious  or  moral  principles,  nor  make 
any  good  impression  upon  his  heart. 

Before  Benedict  had  reached  his  sixteenth 
year,  he  twice  enlisted  as  a  soldier  and  was 
brought  back  by  his  friends.  He  repaid  his 
mother's  kindness  with  baseness  and  ingratitude  ; 
so  that,  between  the  intemperance  and  wretched- 
ness of  the  father,  and  the  cruelty  and  depravity 
of  the  son,  she  died  of  a  broken  heart.  When 
he  grew  up,  the  same  character  followed  him. 
"We  need  not  be  surprised,  then,  that,  in  the 
most  critical  period  of  his  country's  history,  he 
betrayed  his  trust.  He  was  a  General  in  the 
American  Army,  in  the  Revolutionary  War ;  and 
by  his  extravagance,  and  his  overbearing  behav- 
ior, he  brought  upon  himself  a  reprimand  from 
the  American  Congress.  His  temper,  naturally 
impetuous,  had  never  been  controlled,  and  he 
could  not  bear  reproof.  He  was  bent  on  re- 
venge ;  and  to  accomplish  it,  he  entered  into  a 


X 


12  GEORGE  WASHINGTON. 

negotiation,  through  Major  Andre,  to  deliver  up 
West  Point,  of  which  he  had  the  command,  to 
the  enemy.  If  the  plot  had  not  been  discovered 
and  prevented  it  would  have  been  a  very  great 
calamity  to  our  country.  It  might  have  turned 
the  scale  against  us.  I  have  some  personal  rea- 
son to  feel  indignant  at  the  traitor,  besides 
what  arises  from  the  love  of  country  ;  for  my 
father  was  on  picket  guard  at  West  Point,  the 
night  in  which  it  was  to  have  been  delivered  up, 
and  would  have  been  the  first  man  killed.  If 
Arnold  had  been  caught,  he  would  have  closed 
his  career  on  the  gallows ;  but,  as  it  was,  he 
escaped,  and  a  more  worthy  man  suffered.  He 
received,  as  the  reward  of  his  treachery,  the  ap- 
pointment of  Brigadier  General  in  the  British 
Army,  and  ten  thousand  pounds  sterling.  But 
his  name  will  go  down  with  the  history  of  his 
country,  to  the  latest  generation,  black  with  infa- 
my. He  was  a  bad  boy,  and  he  made  a  bad  man. 
And,  as  Solomon  has  said,  "  The  name  of  the 
wicked  shall  rot." 

GEORGE  WASHINGTON. 

A  single  incident,  in  the  history  of  George 
Washington  as  a  bog,  furnishes  a  clew  to  the 
character  of   George  Washington  as  a  man.     I 


GOVERNOR    RITNER.  13 

refer  to  the  well  known  story  of  the  new  hatchet 
and  the  cherry-tree,  with  his  refusing  to  tell  a 
lie ;  which  I  need  not  repeat,  because  it  is  pre- 
served in  the  books  that  are  read  in  our  common 
schools,  arid  embalmed  in  the  memory  of  the  ris- 
ing generation.  This  incident  shows  that  he  had 
already  in  his  bosom  a  deep-seated  principle  of 
stern  integrity,  which  no  temptation  could  shake. 
This  was  the  leading  feature  in  his  character 
when  he  became  a  man.  AVe  have  evidence, 
also,  from  other  incidents  which  have  been  rela- 
ted of  his  early  life,  that  strong,  deep-seated,  filial 
piety,  was  one  of  the  prominent  elements  of  his 
youthful  character.  He  had  learned,  in  early 
life,  to  honor  and  obey  his  parents  ;  and  this 
taught  him  to  love  and  reverence  his  country,  in- 
stead of  making  himself  a  despot,  as  most  success- 
ful generals  do.  But,  at  the  bottom  of  all,  was 
the  religious  element.  Religious  principle  con- 
trolled his  conduct  both  in  private  and  public 
life. 

GOVERNOR  RITNER. 

Joseph  Ritner,  who  was  for  some  time  a  mem- 
ber of  the  legislature  of  Pennsylvania,  and  after- 
wards Governor  of  that  state,  was  once  a  bound 
boy  to  Jacob  Myers,  an  independent  farmer,  who 
2 


14  ROGER    SHERMAN. 

brought  him  up.  "While  he  was  governor,  there 
was  a  celebration  of  the  fourth  of  July,  at  which 
Mr.  Myers  gave  the  following  toast :  —  "  Joseph 
Ritner  —  he  was  always  a  good  hoy,  and  has 
still  grown  better  ;  every  thing  he  did,  he  always 
did  well ;  he  made  a  good  farmer,  and  a  good 
legislator;  and  he  makes  a  very  good  governor." 
All  this  man's  greatness  was  the  result  of  his 
being  a  good  boy. 

ROGER  SHERMAN. 

Rogpr  Sherman,  in  his  public  life,  always  acted 
so  strictly  from  his  own  convictions  of  what  was 
right,  that  Fisher  Ames  used  to  say,  if  he  hap- 
pened to  be  out  of  his  seat  in  Congress  when  a 
subject  was  discussed,  and  came  in  when  the 
question  was  about  to  be  taken,  he  always  felt 
safe  in  voting  as  Mr.  Sherman  did,  "for  lie  always 
voted  right."  This  was  Mr.  Sherman's  character 
everywhere.  But,  if  we  inquire  how  it  came 
to  be  such  we  must  go  back  to  his  early  life. 

Mr.  Sherman's  character  was  formed  upon  the 
principles  of  the  Bible.  And,  when  he  was  an 
apprentice,  instead  of  joining  in  the  rude  and  vul- 
gar conversation,  so  common  among  the  class  to 
which  he  then  belonged,  he  would  sit  at  his  work 
with  a  book  before  him,  devoting  every  moment 


ROGER    SHERMAN.  15 

to  study,  that  his  eyes  could  be  spared  from  the 
occupation  in  which  he  was  engaged.  "When  he 
was  twenty-one  years  of  age  he  made  a  profession 
of  religion.  He  was  as  familiar  with  theology  as 
he  was  with  politics  and  law.  He  read  the  Bible 
more  than  any  other  book.  Always,  when  he 
went  to  Congress,  he  would  purchase  a  copy  of 
the  Bible,  at  the  commencement  of  the  session, 
to  read  every  day ;  and  when  he  went  home,  he 
woujd  present  it  to  one  of  his  children.  Mr. 
Macon,  of  Georgia,  said  of  him,  that  he  had 
more  common  sense  than  any  man  he  ever  knew. 
Mr.  Jefferson,  one  day,  as  he  was  pointing  out 
to  a  friend  the  distinguished  men  in  Congress, 
said  of  him,  *  That  is  Mr.  Sherman,  a  man  who 
never  said  a  foolish  thing  in  his  life"  Mr.  Sher- 
man was  a  self-educated  man,  a  shoemaker,  and 
a  Christian.  He  was  brought  up,  after  the  old 
New-England  fashion,  in  a  pious  Connecticut 
family.  And,  as  teas  the  boy,  so  was  the  man. 
If  you  would  be  a  good  man,  you  must  be  a  good 
boy.  If  you  would  be  a  wise  man  you  must  be 
a  studious  boy.  If  you  would  have  an  excellent 
character,  it  must  be  formed  after  the  model  de- 
lineated in  the  Holy  Bible.  The  basis  must  be 
a  change  of  heart.  The  superstructure  must 
be  laid  up  on  the  principles  of  God's  word. 


16 


CHAPTER  II. 

FILIAL     PIETY. 

Y  Filial  Piety,  I  mean  the 
exercise  of  those  feelings  of 
reverence,  submission,  and  love; 
and  the  faithful  and  conscien- 
tious discharge  of  those  du- 
ties, which  children  owe  their 
parents. 

The  first  duty  which  man 
owes,  is  to  God ;  the  *  second,  to  his 
Parents.  They  are  his  appointed 
guardians,  in  the  season  of  helpless- 
ness and  inexperience.  God  has 
entrusted  him  to  their  care ;  and  in 
return  for  that  care,  he  requires  honor 
and  obedience.  A  child  cannot  be  pious 
toward  God  without  being  pious  to- 
ward his  parents.  The  corner  stone  of  a  good 
character  must  be  laid  in  piety  towards  God ;  the 
rest  of  the  foundation,  in  piety  towards  Parents. 
Show  me  the  boy  that  honors  his  parents,  and  I 
will  show  you  the  man  that  will  obey  the  laws  of 
his  country,  and  make  a  good  citizen.     Show  me 


WASHINGTON.  17 

the  boy  that  is  disobedient  to  his  parents,  and 
turbulent  and  ungovernable  at  home,  and  I  will 
show  you  the  man  that  will  set  at  naught  the 
laws  of  his  country,  and  be  ready  to  every  evil 
work.  When  a  boy  ceases  to  respect  his  father 
or  to  love  his  mother,  and  becomes  tired  of  home 
and  its  sacred  endearments,  there  is  very  little 
hope  of  him. 

GEORGE  WASHINGTON. 

"When  George  Washington  was  about  fourteen 
years  of  age,  he  wanted  to  join  the  Navy.  Ac- 
cordingly, all  the  arrangements  were  made  for  him, 
in  company  with  several  of  his  young  compan- 
ions, to  go  on  board  a  man  of  war.  When  the  time 
arrived,  he  went  into  the  sitting-room,  to  take 
leave  of  his  mother.  He  found  her  in  tears. 
He  threw  his  arms  about  her  neck  and  kissed  her, 
and  was  about  bidding  her  "  farewell ; "  but  seeing 
her  so  much  afflicted,  he  suddenly  relinquished 
his  purpose.  The  boat  which  was  taking  officers, 
men,  and  baggage,  from  the  shore  to  the  ship, 
went  back  and  forth,  in  his  sight.  At  length  it 
came  ashore  for  the  last  time.  A  signal  flag 
was  raised  to  show  that  all  was  ready.  George 
was  standing,  viewing  all  these  movements. 
Several  of  his  companions  now  entered  the  boat, 
2* 


18  FILIAL     PIETY. 

and  as  they  approached  the  ship,  signal  guns 
were  fired  ;  and  soon  after,  the  sails  rose  majesti 
cally,  one  after  another.  George  could  no  longer 
bear  the  sight,  but  entered  the  room  where 
his  mother  sat.  Observing  that  his  counte- 
nance bore  a  strong  expression  of  grief,  she  said, 
u  I  fear,  my  son,  that  you  have  repented  your 
determination  to  stay  at  home  and  make  me 
happy."  "  My  dear  mother,"  he  replied,  placing 
his  arms  round  her  neck,  and  giving  vent  to  his 
feelings  in  a  gush  of  tea*,  "  I  did  strongly  wish 
to  go  ;  but  I  could  not  endure  being  on  board  the 
ship,  and  know  that  you  were  unhappy."  He 
was  young,  ardent,  and  ambitious,  and  had  doubt- 
less anticipated,  with  great  delight,  the  pleasure 
he  should  have,  in  sailing  to  different  places,  on 
board  a  man  of  war ;  and,  although  the  expecta- 
tion of  pleasure  which  boys  sometimes  indulge,  in 
the  prospect  of  a  sea-faring  life  are  delusive  ;  yet, 
it  was  a  noble  generosity  to  sacrifice  all  the  high 
hopes  he  had  cherished,  to  the  feelings  of  his 
mother. 

Obey  God  rather  than  man. 

As  a  general  thing,  it  is  the  duty  of  children 
to  obey  their  parents  ;  but,  when  a  parent  com- 
mands what  is  wrong,  the  child  should  not  obey. 


FILIAL     PIETY.  19 

A  poor  woman  told  her  son  to  cut  down  a  large 
pear  tree,  which  stood  in  the  garden  of  the  cot- 
tage where  they  lived,  for  firewood,  as  they  were 
suffering  from  cold.  They  boy  made  no  answer. 
His  mother  repeated  her  command  ;  but  he  still 
hesitated,  and  said,  "Mother,  I  ought  to  obey 
you,  but  I  must  first  obey  God.  The  tree  is  not 
ours.  It  belongs  to  our  landlord  ;  and  you  know 
that  God  says,  '  Thou  shalt  not  steal.'  I  hope 
you  will  not  make  me  cut  it  down."  She  yielded, 
for  the  time  ;  but  after  suffering  from  cold  a  day 
or  two  longer,  she  told  him  he  must  cut  down  the 
tree.  He  then  said  to  her,  u  Mother ;  God  has 
often  helped  us,  and  supplied  our  wants  wrhen  we 
have  been  in  trouble.  Let  us  wait  till  this  time 
to-morrow.  Then,  if  we  do  not  find  some  relief, 
though  I  am  sure  it  will  be  wrong,  yet  if  you 
make  me  do  it,  I  will  cut  the  tree  in  obedience  to 
your  command."  To  this  she  agreed.  The  boy 
retired  to  his  closet,  and  prayed  earnestly  that 
God  would  help  them,  and  save  him  from  being 
compelled  to  break  his  law.  The  next  morning, 
he  went  out  and  found  a  man  whose  wagon  had 
broken  down  under  a  heavy  load  of  coal.  He 
told  the  man  his  case,  who  agreed  to  let  him  carry 
away  the  coal,  and  they  might  pay  for  it,  if  they 
were  able,  when  he  called  for  it.  But  he  never 
called.     It  is  always  safe  to  do  rigid. 


20  FILIAL  PIETY  REWARDED. 


A  son's  love. 

A  man  in  Sweden  was  condemned  to  suffer 
death  for  some  offences  committed  while  he  held 
a  public  office.  He  had  a  son,  about  eighteen 
years  of  age ;  who,  as  soon  as  he  heard  of  it, 
hastened  to  the  judge  and  begged  that  he  might 
be  allowed  to  suffer  instead  of  his  father.  The 
judge  wrote  to  the  king  about  it ;  who  was  so 
affected  by  it  that  he  sent  orders  to  grant  the 
father  a  free  pardon,  and  confer  upon  the  son  a 
title  of  honor.  This,  however,  the  son  refused  to 
receive.  "  Of  what  avail,"  said  he,  "  could  the 
most  exalted  title  be  to  me,  humbled  as  my  family 
already  is  in  the  dust  ?  "  The  king  wept,  when 
he  heard  of  it,  and  sent  for  the  young  man  to  his 
court. 


Filial  piety  revjarded. 

Frederick,  king  of  Prussia,  one  day  rung  his 
bell,  and  nobody  answering,  opened  the  door  and 
found  his  page  fast  asleep.  Seeing  a  letter  in  his 
pocket,  he  took  it  out  and  read  it,  and  found  it 
was  a  letter  from  his  mother,  thanking  him  for 
having  sent  a  part  of  his  wages  to  relieve  her 
wants.     The  king  was  so  much  pleased  that  ho 


FILIAL  TENDERNESS.  21 

slipped  a  bag  full  of  ducats  into  the  young  man's 
pocket,  along  with  the  letter. 

Filial  Tenderness. 

A  young  man,  newly  admitted  to  the  military 
school  in  France,  would  eat  nothing  but  bread 
and  soup,  and  drink  nothing  but  water.  He  was 
reproved  for  his  singularity ;  but  still  he  would 
not  change.  He  was  finally  threatened  with  be- 
ing sent  home,  if  he  persisted.  "  You  will  not, 
I  hope,  be  displeased  with  me,"  said  he  to  the 
Principal  of  the  institution ;  "  but  I  could  not 
bring  myself  to  enjoy  what  I  think  a  luxury, 
while  I  reflect  that  my  dear  father  and  mother 
are  in  the  utmost  indigence.  They  could  afford 
themselves  and  me  no  better  food  than  the  coars- 
est of  bread,  and  of  that  but  very  little.  Here 
I  have  excellent  soup,  and  as  much  fine  wheat 
bread  as  I  choose.  I  look  upon  this  to  be  very 
good  living  ;  and  the  recollection  of  the  situation 
in  which  I  left  my  parents,  would  not  permit  me 
to  indulge  myself  by  eating  any  thing  else." 

Filial  impiety  punished. 

God  has  promised  long  life  and  prosperity  to 
the  child  that  honors  his   parents.     Of  course, 


22  FILIAL  IMP1ET1. 

this  promise  is  not  meant  to  be  absolute  1  for 
many  die  before  they  have  an  opportunity  o/ 
obeying  the  command,  and  others  are  taken  away 
for  wise  reasons.  But,  as  a  general  principle, 
the  promise  is  verified.  On  the  contrary,  the 
word  of  God  declares,  "  The  eye  that  mocketh  at 
his  father,  and  scorneth  to  obey  his  mother,  the 
ravens  of  the  valley  shall  pick  it  out,  and  the 
young  eagles  shall  eat  it ;"  meaning  that  God 
will  visit  with  sore  punishment  those  that  despise 
and  ill-treat  their  parents.  Boys,  when  they  be- 
gin to  approach  manhood,  are  very  apt  to  think 
themselves  wiser  than  their  parents,  and  to  be 
restive  and  turbulent  under  restraint.  Two 
young  men  in  England,  the  sons  of  pious  and 
wealthy  parents,  wanted  the  family  carriage  to 
ride  out  and  seek  their  pleasure  on  the  holy 
Sabbath.  This  being  repeatedly  refused,  they 
resolved  to  resent  it;  and  accordingly  went  off 
with  the  determination  to  go  to  sea.  Their  father 
sent  word  to  Rev.  Mr.  Griffin,  of  Portsea,  re- 
questing him  to  find  them,  and  try  to  persuade 
them  to  return.  He  did  so ;  and  among  other 
things,  urged  the  feelings  of  their  parents  ;  who, 
after  watching  over  them  with  so  much  care  and 
tender  anxiety,  must  now  see  all  their  hopes 
blasted.  This  touched  the  heart  of  the  younger, 
and  he  consented  to  return  ;  but  the  elder  w*>* 


OBSTINACY.  23 

obstinate.  The  carriage,  lie  said,  had  been  re- 
fused, he  had  made  up  his  mind  to  go  to  sea,  and 
to  sea  he  would  go.  Mr.  Griffin  then  requested 
the  young  man  to  go  with  him  to  his  house,  and 
he  would  get  him  a  ship  that  he  might  go  out  as  a 
man  and  a  gentleman.  This  he  declined,  giving 
as  a  reason,  that  it  would  make  his  parents  feel 
to  have  it  said  that  their  son  went  out  as  a  com- 
mon sailor ;  as  a  common  sailor,  therefore,  he 
would  go.  "  Is  that  your  disposition  ?  "  said  Mr. 
Griffin  ;  *;  then,  young  man,  go  ;  and  while  I  say, 
God  go  with  you,  be  sure  your  sin  will  find  you 
out,  and  for  it  God  will  bring  you  into  judgment." 
The  younger  son  was  restored  to  his  parents, 
while  all  traces  of  the  elder  were  lost,  and  he 
was  mourned  for  as  for  one  dead. 

After  a  considerable  time,  a  sailor  called  on 
Mr.  Griffin,  and  informed  him  that  there  was  a 
young  man  on  board  one  of  the  ships  in  the  har- 
bor, under  sentence  of  death,  who  wanted  to  see 
him.  What  was  his  astonishment,  on  finding  the 
young  man,  who  had  gone  to  sea  to  be  revenged  on 
his  parents  for  refusing  him  a  sinful  indulgence, 
a  prisoner,  manacled  and  guarded !  "  I  have  sent 
for  you,"  said  the  young  man,  "  to  take  my  last 
farewell  of  you  in  this  world,  and  to  bless  you  for 
your  efforts  to  restore  me  to  a  sense  of  my  duty. 
Would  to  God  that  I  had  taken  your  advice  ;  but 


24  DISOBEDIENCE    PUNISHED. 

it  is  now  to  late.  My  sin  has  found  me  out,  and 
for  it  God  has  brought  me  into  judgment."  Mr. 
Griffin  spent  some  time  with  the  young  man  in 
conversation  and  prayer ;  and  then  hastened  to 
London,  to  see  if  he  could  not  get  him  pardoned. 
But,  when  he  arrived  there,  the  warrant  had  al- 
ready been  sent  for  the  young  man's  execution. 
He  returned  home,  and  arrived  on  the  morning 
that  the  young  man  was  to  be  executed.  Within 
a  few  minutes  after  his  arrival  came  a  pardon, 
with  which  he  hastened  to  the  ship,  where  he  met 
the  young  man's  father,  in  the  greatest  agony,  as 
he  was  returning  from  taking,  as  he  supposed,  his 
last  farewell  of  his  son.  Mr.  Griffin  entered  the 
vessel  at  the  moment  when  the  prisoner,  pinioned 
for  execution,  was  advancing  towards  the  fatal 
spot.  In  a  few  moments,  he  was  restored  to  the 
embrace  of  his  father.  Thus  he  suffered  shame 
and  ignominy,  and  the  agonies  of  death,  as  a  pun- 
ishment for  his  disobedience  to  his  parents ; 
though,  in  consequence  of  his  penitence,  his  life 
was  spared. 

TJdnh  how  you  will  feel  when  your  parents 
are  gone. 

A  young  man  was  lamenting  the  death  of  a 
most  affectionate   parent.     His   companions,    to 


BENEFIT    OF    OBEDIENCE.  25 

console  him,  said  that  he  had  always  behaved  to 
the  deceased  with  tenderness,  duty,  and  respect. 
"  So  I  thought,"  he  replied,  "  while  my  parent 
was  living  ;  but  now  I  recollect  with  pain  and 
sorrow,  many  instances  of  disobedience  and  neg- 
lect, for  which,  alas,  it  is  too  late  to  make  any 
atonement."  If  you  would  avoid  this  bitter  re- 
flection, ask  yourself,  when  disposed  to  do  any 
thing  that  will  grieve  your  parents,  "  With  what 
feelings  shall  I  think  of  this,  when  they  are  dead 
and  gone  ?  " 

Benefit  of  Obedience. 

A  boy  wishing,  one  afternoon,  to  go  with  some 
other  boys,  on  a  sailing  excursion,  asked  permis- 
sion of  his  mother,  which  was  not  granted. 
After  a  severe  struggle  in  his  mind  between  incli- 
ation  and  duty,  he  gave  up  his  anticipated  pleas- 
ure, and  remained  at  home.  The  other  boys 
went.  A  sudden  flaw  of  wind  capsized  their 
boat,  and  two  of  them  were  drowned.  The  boy, 
when  he  heard  of  it,  was  much  affected,  and  said 
to  his  mother,  "  After  this  I  shall  always  do  as 
you  say." 

Reward  of  Disobedience. 

Another  boy  was  charged  by  his  father,   as  h* 
3 


26  DISOBEDIENCE    PUNISHED. 

was  going  away,  to  be  gone  a  few  days,  not  to 
go  on  the  pond.  Saturday,  being  his  holiday,  he 
asked  permission  of  his  mother  to  go  a  skating. 
She  told  him  he  might  skate  about  in  the  fields 
and  by  the  sides  of  the  road,  on  such  patches  of 
ice  as  he  could  find;  "but,"  said  she,  "be  sure 
you  do  not  go  on  the- pond."  He  went  out;  and 
contrary  to  the  strict  charges  he  had  received 
from  his  parents,  he  went  on  the  pond.  He 
thought  there  was  no  danger ;  for  the  ice  was  a 
foot  thick,  iput  there  was  a  place  that  had  been 
cut  open  to  get  ice,  where  he  and  his  companions 
fell  in,  and  he  was  drowned  ! 

Some  years  ago,  a  boy  in  Woburn,  named 
William  Wheat,  came  to  a  terrible  end  in  conse- 
quence of  disobedience  to  his  parents.  Three 
Sabbaths  before  his  death,  he  left  the  Sabbath 
School,  and  went  to  a  public  house  —  a  place 
where  no  boy  should  go,  on  any  day,  unless  sent 
on  business.  The  next  Sabbath,  his  teacher  re- 
proved him,  and  he  was  very  angry,  and  declared 
it  was  the  last  time  he  should  ever  enter  the  Sab- 
bath School ;  which  proved  true.  The  next 
Sabbath,  he  did  not  go  ;  and  the  following  Wed- 
nesday, he  got  an  old  gun  barrel,  which  his  pa- 
rents had  repeatedly  forbidden  him  to  meddle 
with,  and  charging  it  with  powder,  applied  a  luci- 
fer  match,  to  " fire  off  his  cannon"  as  he  called 


END    OF    DISOBEDIENCE.  27 

it.  The  gun  burst  and  killed  him  instantly. 
Here  was  a  boy  of  a  turbulent  ungovernable 
disposition,  despising  the  authority  of  his  parents 
and  the  law  of  God.  He  only  came  to  the  end 
to  which  the  road,  in  which  he  walked,  naturally 
leads. 

Boys  should  never  attempt  to  set  up  their  own 
judgment  against  that  of  their  parents.  When 
a  parent  denies  the  requests  of  his  children,  he 
does  it,  not  to  deprive  them  of  pleasure,  but  be- 
cause he  sees  a  good  reason  for  it.  If  the  child 
submits,  he  will  one  day  see  that  his  parents  had 
a  good  reason,  although  he  could  not  then  per- 
ceive it.  Let  this  reflection  silence  all  murmur- 
ing: "  My  father  and  mother  know  letter  than  I" 
The  truth  of  this  is  clearly  proved  in  the  fore- 
going cases. 

Conscientious  Obedience. 

Some  children  obey  their  parents  because  it  is 
right,  and  because  they  love  them.  This  is  true, 
conscientious  obedience  —  the  obedience  of  the 
heart.  And  those  who  render  to  their  parents 
this  kind  of  obedience,  will  be  just  as  careful  to 
obey  them,  when  out  of  their  sight,  as  in  their 
presence ;  and  they  will  be  careful  not  to 
evade  their  commands.     They  only  want  to  know 


28  A   tofiAVE   BOY. 

the  wishes  of  their    parents,  promptly  to  obey 
them. 

The  shouts  of  half  a  dozen  children  were 
heard  from  the  piazza  of  one  of  the  large  board- 
ing houses  at  Saratoga  Springs  —  "0  yes  ;  that's 
capital !  so  we  will !  Come  on  now !  there 's 
William  Hale  !  Come  on,  William,  we  're  going 
to  have  a  ride  on  the  Circular  Railway.  Come 
with  us  ?  "  "  Yes,  if  my  mother  is  willing.  I 
will  run  and  ask  her,"  replied  William.  "  O,  0  ! 
so  you  must  run  and  ask  your  ma.  Great  baby, 
run  along  to  your  ma!  Ain't  you  ashamed? 
I  did  n't  ask  my  mother."  "  Nor  I."  "  Nor  I," 
added  half  a  dozen  voices.  "  Be  a  man,  Wil- 
liam," cried  the  first  voice,  —  "  come  along  with 
us,  if  you  don't  want  to  be  called  a  coward  as  long 
as  you  live.     Don't  you  see  we  are  all  waiting  ?  " 

William  was  standing  with  one  foot  advanced, 
and  his  hand  firmly  clenched,  in  the  midst  of  the 
group,  with  flushed  brow,  flashing  eye,  compress- 
ed lip,  and  changing  cheek,  all  showing  how  the 
epithet  coward  rankled  in  his  breast.  It  was 
doubted,  for  a  moment,  whether  he  would  have 
the  true  bravery  to  be  called  a  coward  rather 
than  do  wrong.  But,  with  a  voice  trembling 
with  emotion,  he  replied,  "  I  will  not  go  without  I 
ask  my  mother ;  and  I  am  no  coward  either.  I 
promised  her  I  would  not  go  from  the  house  with- 


OBEDIENCE    ILLUSTRATED.  20 

out  permission,  and  I  should  be  a  base  coward,  if 
I  were  to  tell  her  a  wicked  lie." 

In  the  evening,  William  was  walking  'n  the 
parlor,  among  the  crowd,  with  his  mother,  a 
Southern  lady,  of  gentle,  polished  manners,  who 
looked  with  pride  on  her  graceful  boy,  whose  fine 
face  was  fairly  radiant  with  animation  and  intel- 
ligence. Well  might  she  be  proud  of  such  a 
son,  who  could  dare  to  do  right,  when  all  were 
tempting  him  to  do  wrong. 

Cheerful    Obedience,   Sullen   Obedience,  and 
Disobedience. 

When  children  are  away  from  home,  they  are 
bound  to  obey  those  to  whose  care  their  parents 
have  entrusted  them.  Three  boys,  Eobert, 
George,  and  Alfred,  went  to  spend  a  week  with 
a  gentleman,  who  took  them  to  be  agreeable, 
well-behaved  boys.  There  was  a  great  pond 
near  his  house,  with  a  flood-gate,  where  the  water 
ran  out.  It  was  cold  weather,  and  the  pond  was 
frozen  over ;  but  the  gentleman  knew  that  the 
ice  was  very  thin  near  the  floodgate.  The  first 
morning  after  they  came,  he  told  them  they  might 
go  and  slide  on  the  pond,  if  they  would  not  go 
near  the  flood-gate.  Soon  after  they  were  gone, 
he  followed  them  to  see  that  they  were  safe. 
3* 


30  TRUE    OBEDIENCE. 

When  he  got  there,  he  found  Robert  sliding  in 
the  very  place  where  he  had  told  him  not  to  go. 
This  was  disobedience  outright.  George  was 
walking  sullenly  by  the  side  of  the  pond,  not  so 
much  as  sliding  at  all,  because  he  had  been  for- 
bidden to  venture  on  the  dangerous  part.  This 
was  sullen  obedience;  which  is,  in  reality,  no 
obedience  at  all,  because  it  comes  not  from  the 
heart.  But  Alfred  was  cheerfully  enjoying  him- 
self, in  a  capital-,  long  slide,  upon  a  safe  part  of 
the  pond.  This  was  true  obedience.  Suddenly, 
the  ice  broke  where  Robert  was  sliding,  he  im- 
mediately went  under  water,  and  it  was  with  diffi- 
culty that  his  life  was  saved.  The  gentleman 
concluded  that  Alfred  was  a  lad  of  integrity,  but 
that  his  two  brothers  were  not  to  be  trusted. 
Obedience  secured  him  happiness,  and  the  confi- 
dence of  the  kind  gentleman  with  whom  he  was 
staying ;  while  the  others  deprived  themselves  of 
enjoyment,  lost  the  gentleman's  confidence,  and 
one  of  them  nearly  lost  his  life ;  and  yet,  to  slide 
on  the  dangerous  part  of  the  pond  would  have 
added  nothing  to  their  enjoyment.  They  desired 
it  from  mere  wilfulness,  because  it  was  forbidden. 
This  disposition  indulged,  will  always  lead  boys 
into  difficulty  ;  and  if  they  cherish  it  while  boys, 
it  will  go  with  them  through  life,  and  keep  them 
always  "  in  hot  water." 


31 


CHAPTER  III. 


SOCIAL  VIRTUES   AND   VICES. 

Section    I.  —  Brotherly  Affection. 

Sergeant  Glanville. 
♦ 
USTOMS  vary  in  different 
countries.  In  England,  when 
a  man  dies  without  making  a 
will,  his  property  goes  to  his 
eldest  son.  Mr.  Glanville, 
who  lived  in  the  days  of 
Charles  II.,  had  an  eldest  son, 
who  was  incurably  vicious ; 
and  seeing  no  hope  of  reforming 
him,  the  father  gave  his  property 
to  his  second  son.  When  Mr.  Ser- 
geant Glanville  died,  and  his  eldest 
son  learned  what  was  done,  he  became 
greatly  dejected,  and  in  a  short  time 
his  character  underwent  an  entire 
change.  When  his  brother  perceived 
this,  he  invited  him  and  a  party  of  his  friends  to 
a  feast.     After  several  dishes  had  been  served, 


32  BROTHERLY  AFFECTION. 

he  ordered  one,  covered  up,  to  be  set  before  his 
brother ;  which  on  being  opened,  was  found  to 
contain  the  writings  that  conveyed  to  him  the 
estate.  This,  he  remarked  was  what  he  was  sure 
his  father  would  have  done,  had  he  lived  to  wit- 
ness the  happy  change  which  they  saw. 

Generosity  of  an  elder  brother. 

Mr.  H ,  an  ingenious   artist,  for  want  of 

employment,  was  reduced  to  great  distress,  and 
applied  to  his  elder  brother,  who  was  in  good 
circumstances,  and  begged  some  little  hovel  to 
live  in,  and  some  provision  for  his  support.  His 
brother  was  melted  to  tears :  "  You,  my  dear 
brother,"  said  he,  "  you  live  in  a  hovel !  You  are 
a  man ;  you  are  an  honor  to  the  family.  I  am 
nothing.  You  shall  take  this  house  and  estate, 
and  I  will  be  your  guest,  if  you  please."  The  two 
brothers  lived  thus  affectionately  together,  as  if  it 
had  been  common  property,  till  the  death  of  the 
elder  put  the  artist  in  possession  of  the  whole. 
How  happy  every  family  of  brothers  would  be, 
if  they  would  thus  share  with  each  other  all  they 
have!  It  would  save  all  disputing  about  mine 
and  thine.  Every  one  would  be  equally  pleased 
that  his  brother  was  enjoying  any  thing,  as  if  he 
had  it  himself. 


33 


Section  II.  —  The  Golden  Rule. 
GENEROUS    BLACKSMITH. 


R.    Wilson,     passing   late   one 

evening      by     a     blacksmith's 

shop,  and  hearing  the  sound  of 

the  hammer  much  later    than 

usual,  stepped  in  to  inquire  the 

cause.     The  man  told  him  that 

one   of  his  neighbors  had  just 

been  burned  out,  and  had  lost 

y  thing  ;  and  he  had  underta- 

to  work   an  hour  earlier  in  the 

•ning  and  an  hour  later  at  night 

-  to  help  him. 

(JrtCjn  "  This  is  kind,  in  you,"  said  Mr.  Wil- 

5    son  ;  "  for  I  suppose  your  neighbor  will 

never  be  able  to  pay  you  again." 

"I  do  not  expect  it,"  replied  the 
blacksmith  ;  "  but  if  I  were  in  his  situation,  and 
he  in  mine,  I  am  sure  he  would  do  as  much  for 
me." 

The  next  morning,  Mr.  Wilson  called  and 
offered  to  lend  the  blacksmith  fifty  dollars  without 
interest,  so  that  he  might  be  able  to  buy  his  iron 


34  MICHAEL    VERIN. 

cheaper.  But  the  man  refused  U  take  it,  jut 
told  Mr.  Wilson  that,  if  he  would  lend  it  to  the 
man  whose  house  was  burned  down,  it  would  go 
far  towards  helping  him  rebuild  his  cottage.  To 
this,  Mr.  "Wilson  consented,  and  had  the  pleasuie 
of  making  two  men  happy. 

Michael  Verin. 

Michael  Verin,  a  Florentine  youth,  was  always 
foremost ;  and  his  compositions  being  more  cor- 
rect than  those  of  any  other  boy  in  school,  he 
always  obtained  the  first  prize.  One  of  his 
school-fellows,  named  Belvicino,  studied  hard 
night  and  day,  but  could  never  get  the  prize 
This  grieved  him  so  much  that  he  pined  away 
and  grew  sick.  Verin  was  strongly  attached  to 
Belvicino ;  and,  discovering  the  cause  of  his  ill- 
ness, he  determined  to  remove  it.  The  next  com- 
position day,  he  made  several  faults  in  his  Greek 
version.  Belvicino's  was  judged  the  best,  and 
he  took  the  prize.  This  so  delighted  him  that  he 
quickly  recovered  his  health  and  spirits.  But 
he  wrould  never  have  known  to  whom  he  was  in- 
debted for  his  success,  had  not  the  preceptor 
pressed  Verin  to  tell  him  why  he  had  made  such 
palpable  faults  in  his  composition. 


35 


Section  III. — Gratitude  and  Benevolence. 


PLANTING    TREES, 


<3k^g75>  N    old    man    was    busily  era- 
ployed  in  planting  and  graft- 
ing an  apple  tree.     Some  one 
passing    by.    rudely  accosted 
him  with  the  inquiry,"  "  Why 
do  you  plant  trees,  who  can- 
not hope  to  eat  the  fruit  of 
them  ?  "     The  old  man  raised 
himself    up,    and    leaning    on    his 
spade,  replied,  "  Some  one  planted 
trees  before  I  was  born,  and  I  have 
eaten  the  fruit ;  I  now  plant  for  oth- 
ers, that  the  memorial  of  my  gratitude 
may  exist  when  I  am  dead  and  gone." 
It  is  a  very  narrow,  selfish  feeling  that 
confines  our  views  within  the  circle  of 
our  own  private  interests.     If  man  had  been  made 
to  live  for  himself  alone,  we  may  justly  conclude 
that  every  one  would  have  been  made  by  himself, 
and  his  bounds  marked  out,  so  that  he  might  live 
alone.     But  since  God  has  made  us  to  live  in 


36 


GRATITUDE. 


society,  he  designs  that  we  should  be  helpful  to 
each  other.  The  truly  ingenuous,  benevolent 
mind,  takes  more  pleasure  in  an  act  which 
will  confer  blessings  upon  others,  than  in  one 
that  terminates  on  himself.  The  selfish  man 
wraps  himself  in  his  cloak,  and  cares  not  for  the 
sufferings  of  others,  so  that  he  keeps  warm  him- 
self. This  old  man,  however,  remembered  how 
much  he  was  indebted  to  those  who  had  lived 
before  him,  and  resolved  to  pay  his  debts.  If 
we  would  look  around  us,  we  should  find  our- 
selves indebted  to  others,  on  every  side,  for  the 
comforts  which  we  now  enjoy  —  first  to  God,  and 
under  him,  to  those  whom  he  has  employed  as 
his  agents  to  give  them  to  us.  Ought  we  not, 
then,  to  strive  in  some  measure  to  repay  these 
obligations,  by  doing  something  to  promote  the 
happiness  and  well-being  of  others  ?  Who  gave 
us  the  Gospel  ?  The  missionaries,  who  preached 
the  gospel  to  our  Saxon  ancestors,  and  the  Re- 
formers, who  opened  the  treasures  of  God's  word, 
when  they  were  hid  under  the  rubbish  of  Popish 
superstition.  Ought  we  not,  then,  in  return  for 
this,  to  send  the  blessed  gospel  to  those  who  are 
now  destitute?  Who  gave  us  our  civil  and  reli- 
gious liberties  ?  Our  fathers  who  braved  the 
.ocean  and  the  wilderness  to  establish  it,  and  the 
sword  of   the   mother   country   to   maintain  it. 


DR.    FRANKLIN.  37 

Ought  we  not,  then,  to  transmit  this  precious  boon 
to  our  posterity  ?  And  so  in  whatever  direction 
we  look,  we  shall  find  some  blessing  for  which  we 
are  indebted  to  the  noble  generosity,  public  spirit, 
or  christian  benevolence  of  others.  Let  us  return 
the  blessing,  with  interest,  into  the  bosom  of 
others.  Dr.  Franklin,  having  done  a  favor  to 
some  one,  and  being  pressed  with  thanks,  request- 
ed the  person  whom  he  had  obliged  to  embrace 
the  first  opportunity  of  doing  a  kindness  to  some 
other  person,  and  request  him  to  pass  it  round,  as 
all  mankind  are  friends  and  brothers.  A  greater 
than  he  has  said,  "  It  is  more  blessed  to  give 
than  to  receive." 


Thomas  Cromwell. 

Francis  Frescobald,  a  rich  Florentine  mer- 
chant, had  become  noted  for  his  liberality  to  the 
needy  and  destitute.  A  young  Englishman, 
named  Thomas  Cromwell,  the  son  of  a  poor  man, 
had  gone  into  Italy  with  the  French  army,  where 
he  found  himself  in  a  destitute  condition.  Hear- 
ing of  the  liberality  of  Frescobald,  he  applied  to 
him  for  aid ;  who,  having  inquired  into  his  cir- 
cumstances, took  him  to  his  house,  clothed  him 
genteelly,  and  kept  him  till  he  had  recovered  his 
strength.  He  then  gave  him  a  good  horse,  with 
4 


38 


CROMWELL    AND    FRESCOBALD. 


sixteen  ducats  of  gold  in  his  pockets  ;  with  which, 
after  expressing  his  gratitude  to  his  benefactor, 
he  made  his  way  home.  After  his  arrival  in 
England,  he  was  taken  into  the  service  of  Car- 
dinal Wolsey,  who  was  then  the  favorite  of  King 
Henry  VIII.,  and  his  Prime  Minister.  After 
the  death  of  the  Cardinal,  Cromwell  became  the 
King's  favorite ;  who  made  him  a  baron,  a  vis- 
count, Earl  of  Essex,  and  finally,  lord  chancellor 
of  England. 

Frescobald  the  rich  Florentine  merchant,  by 
repeated  losses  both  at  sea  and  on  the  land,  was 
now  reduced  to  poverty.  Some  English  mer- 
chants, however,  were  owing  him  fifteen  thousand 
ducats,  and  he  came  to  England  to  collect  the 
money.  The  lord  chancellor,  as  he  was  riding  to 
court,  met  him  in  the  street,  and  immediately 
alighted  and  embraced  him  ;  and  without  waiting 
for  his  old  friend  to  recognize  him,  invited  him  to 
dine  with  him.  Frescobald,  after  recollecting 
himself,  concluded  it  must  be  the  young  English- 
man whom  he  had  assisted,  and  therefore  com- 
plied with  the  invitation.  When  the  chancellor 
returned  from  court,  with  a  number  of  the  nobil- 
ity, he  introduced  them  to  the  merchant,  and 
related  the  story  of  the  assistance  he  had  received 
from  him  in  a  time  of  need.  After  the  company 
were   gone,    Cromwell   inquired  of    Frescobald 


Cromwell's  gratitude.  39 

what  had  brought  him  to  England,  who  related 
to  him  his  misfortunes.  "  I  am  sorry  for  them," 
said  he ;  "  and  I  will  make  them  as  easy  to  you 
as  I  can.  But,  because  men  ought  to  be  just 
before  they  are  kind,,  it  is  fit  I  should  repay  the 
debt  I  owe  you."  Then  leading  him  to  a  closet, 
he  took  out  sixteen  ducats  and  gave  them  to 
Frescobald,  saying,  "  My  friend,  here  is  the 
money  you  lent  me  at  Florence,  with  ten  pieces 
you  laid  out  for  my  apparel,  and  ten  more  you 
paid  out  for  my  horse  ;  but,  considering  that  you 
are  a  merchant,  and  might  have  made  some  ad- 
vantage by  this  money  in  the  way  of  trade,  take 
these  four  bags,  in  every  one  of  which  are  four 
hundred  ducats,  and  enjoy  them  as  free  gifts  of 
your  friend."  These  Frescobald  would  have  re- 
fused, but  Cromwell  forced  them  upon  him.  He 
then  took  the  names  of  his  debtors  and  the  sums 
they  owed,  and  sent  his  servant  to  demand  their 
payment  in  fifteen  days.  In  a  short  time,  the 
entire  sum  was  paid.  During  this  time  Fresco- 
bald lodged  at  Cromwell's  house  ;  and  the  latter 
would  have  persuaded  him  to  remain  in  England ; 
tmt  he  chose  to  return  to  Florence.  Here  is  a 
Tine  illustration  of  that  passage  of  Scripture, 
which  says,  "  Cast  thy  bread  upon  the  waters,  for 
thou  shalt  find  it  after  many  days." 


40  THE   TRAVELLER. 


Lending  to  the  Lord. 

Solomon  says,  "He  that  hath  pity  on  the  poor 
lendeth  unto  the  Lord  ;  and  that  which  he  hath 
given  will  he  pay  him  again."  The  following 
anecdote  affords  a  very  striking  illustration  of  the 
truth  of  this  passage  : 

In  the  year  1797,  as  Mr.  M. was  travel- 
ling among  the  mountains  in  Vermont  he  was 
overtaken  by  a  thunder  shower,  and  sought  shelter 
in  a  small  house,  on  the  borders  of  a  great  forest. 
On  entering  the  house  and  finding  no  one  but  a 
woman  and  her  infant  he  apologized,  and  asked 
the  privilege  of  stopping  till  the  shower  was  over. 
The  woman  said  she  was  glad  to  have  him  come 
in,  for  she  was  always  terrified  by  thunder.  The 
gentleman  told  her  she  need  not  be  terrified  at 
thunder,  if  she  only  trusted  in  God.  After  con- 
versing with  her  some  time  on  this  subject,  he 
inquired  whether  she  had  any  neighbors,  who 
were  religious.  She  told  him  she  had  neighbors 
about  two  miles  off,  but  whether  they  were  reli- 
gious or  not,  she  could  not  tell.  She  heard  that 
they  had  preaching  there  once  a  fortnight,  but 
she  never  attended  their  meetings.  She  appear- 
ed to  be  extremely  ignorant  on  the  subject  of 


LENDING   TO    THE    LORD.  41 

religion.  The  rain  had  now  passed  over,  and  all 
nature  smiled.  The  traveller,  as  he  was  about 
to  leave,  thanked  the  woman  for  her  kindness, 
and  expressed  to  her  his  earnest  desire  for  the 
salvation  of  her  soul,  and  besought  her  to  read 
the  Bible  daily,  and  give  diligent  heed  to  its  in- 
structions. But  she,  with  tears  in  her  eyes,  con- 
fessed that  she  had  no  Bible.  They  had  never 
been  able,  she  said,  to  buy  one.  "  Could  you  read 
one  if  you  had  it  ?  "  he  inquired.  She  said  she 
could,  and  would  be  very  glad  of  the  privilege. 
"  Poor  woman,'*  said  he,  "  I  do  heartily  pity  you  : 
farewell." 

As  the  traveller  was  preparing  to  go,  he  thought 
to  himself,  "  This  woman  is  in  very  great  want 
of  a  Bible.  0  that  I  had  one  to  give  her  !  But 
I  have  not  As  for  money  to  buy  one,  I  have 
none  to  spare.  I  have  no  more  than  will  be  ab- 
solutely necessary  for  my  expenses  home.  I 
must  go:  but  if  I  leave  this  woman  without  the 
means  to  procure  the  word  of  God,  she  may  per- 
ish for  lack  of  knowledge.  What  shall  I  do  ?  " 
These  passages  of  Scripture  then  came  to  his 
mind,  u  He  that  hath  pity  on  the  poor  lendeth  to 
the  Lord."  "  Cast  thy  bread  upon  the  waters,  for 
thou  shalt  find  it  after  many  days."  He  said  in 
his  heart,  ';  I  will  trust  in  the  Lord."  He  took  a 
dollar  from  his  purse,  went  back  and  gave  it  to 
4* 


42  THE    LOAN  REPAID. 

the  woman,  telling  her  to  buy  a  Bible  with  it. 
She  promised  to  do  so,  and  said  she  knew  where 
one  could  be  obtained. 

The  traveller  set  out,  and  when  night  came  he 
took  lodgings  at  a  private  house.  He  had  a  little 
change  left,  but  as  he  had  two  days  more  to 
travel,  he  thought  he  would  make  his  supper  on 
a  cold  morsel,  which  he  had  with  him.  But, 
when  the  family  came  to  the  table,  he  was  urged 
to  take  a  seat  with  them,  and  invited  to  ask  a 
blessing.  He  now  began  to  feel  himself  among 
friends,  and  at  liberty  to  speak  of  divine  things ; 
and  the  family  seemed  gratified  in  listening  to  his 
conversation.  In  the  morning,  he  offered  to  pay 
for  his  lodging,  but  the  people  would  take  noth- 
ing. He  travelled  on,  till  late  in  the  morning, 
when,  finding  no  hotel,  he  stopped  at  a  private 
house  for  breakfast.  While  waiting,  he  lost  no 
time  to  recommend  Christ  to  the  family.  When 
ready  to  depart,  the  mistress  of  the  house  would 
take  nothing  for  his  breakfast,  or  the  oats,  which 
his  horse  had  eaten.  And  so  he  went  on,  asking 
for  and  receiving  refreshment  when  he  wanted  it, 
and  offering  to  pay  for  it,  as  any  other  traveller 
would  do  ;  but  no  one  would  take  any  thing,  al- 
though they  did  not  know  but  he  had  plenty  of 
money.  "  What  does  this  mean  ?  "  said  he  to 
himself.     I  was  never  treated  in  this  manner  on 


THE    LOAN    REPAID.  43 

a  journey  before."  He  recollected  the  dollar  lie 
had  given  the  poor  woman,  and  the  passage  of 
Scripture,  which  induced  him  to  do  it,  and  said,  "  I 
have  been  well  paid.  It  is  indeed  safe  lending 
to  the  Lord."  On  the  second  day  after  lie  left 
the  cottage  in  the  wilderness,  he  arrived  safely  at 
home,  having  been  at  no  expense  on  the  way. 
The  Lord  has  the  control  of  all  events.  The 
hearts  of  all  men  are  in  his  hands.  It  was  He 
who  inclined  the  hearts  of  the  people  to  be  kind 
and  hospitable  to  his  servant,  and  to  ask  no  pay 
for  what  they  gave  him. 

About  a  year  and  a  half  after  this,  a  stranger 
called  at  Mr.  M.'s  house,  and  asked  for  some 
refreshment.  In  the  course  of  their  conversation, 
Mr.  M.  asked  the  stranger  whether  the  people 
in  those  parts  where  he  lived  paid  much  atten- 
tion to  religion. 

"  Not  much,"  he  replied ;  "  but  in  a  town 
twenty  or  thirty  miles  distant,  there  has  been  a 
powerful  revival.  The  commencement  of  it  was 
very  extraordinary.  The  first  person  that  was 
awakened  and  brougnt  to  repentance,  was  a  poor 
woman,  who  lived  in  a  very  retired  place.  She 
told  her  friends  and  neighbors  that  a  stranger 
was  driven  into  her  house  by  a  thunder  storm, 
and  talked  to  her  so  seriously,  that  she  began, 
while  listening  to  his  discourse  to  feel  concerned 


44  THE    LOAN    REPAID. 

about  her  soul.  The  gentleman  was  much  affect- 
ed, when  he  found  she  had  no  Bible ;  and  after 
he  had  left  the  house  to  go  on  his  journey,  return- 
ed again,  and  gave  her  a  dollar  to  buy  one  ;  and 
charged  her  to  get  it  soon,  and  read  it  diligently. 
She  did  so ;  and  it  had  been  the  means,  as  she 
believed,  of  her  salvation.  The  neighbors  won- 
dered at  this  ;  and  it  was  the  means  of  awaken- 
ing them  to  a  deep  concern  for  the  salvation  of 
their  souls.  As  many  as  thirty  or  forty  are  re- 
joicing in  God  their  Savior."  Mr.  M.  who  had 
listened  to  this  narrative,  with  his  heart  swelling 
more  and  more  with  wonder,  gratitude,  and  joy, 
could  refrain  no  longer  ;  but  with  hands  and  eyes 
raised  to  heaven,  exclaimed,  "  My  God,  thou  hast 
paid  me  again  !  " 

When  we  lend  to  the  Lord,  he  always  pays  us 
with  "  good  measure,  pressed  down  and  running 
over." 

An  Indian  story. 

In  the  early  settlement?  of  this  country  a 
strange  Indian  arrived  at  an  inn  in  Litchfield, 
Connecticut,  and  asked  for  something  to  eat;  at 
the  same  time  saying  that,  as  he  had  been  unsuc- 
cessful in  hunting,  he  had  nothing  to  pay.  The 
woman  who  kept  the  inn,  not  only  refused  his 


AN    INDIAN  S    GRATITUDE.  45 

reasonable  request,  but  called  him  hard  names. 
But  a  man  who  sat  by,  seeing  that  the  Indian 
was  suffering  for  want  of  food,  told  her  to  give 
him  what  he  wanted  at  his  expense.  When  the 
Indian  had  finished  his  supper,  lie  thanked  the 
man,  and  assured  him  that  he  should  be  faithfully 
recompensed,  whenever  it  was  in  his  power. 

Some  years  after  this,  the  man  had  occasion  to 
go  from  Litchfield  to  -Albany,  where  he  was  taken 
prisoner  by  the  Indians,  and  carried  to  Canada. 
Some  of  them  proposed  that  he  should  be  put  to 
death ;  but  an  old  woman  demanded  that  he 
should  be  given  to  her,  that  she  might  adopt  him 
in  place  of  a  son,  who  had  been  killed  in  the  war. 
This  was  done,  and  he  passed  the  winter  in  her 
family.  The  next  summer,  while  he  was  at  work 
alone  in  the  woods,  a  strange  Indian  came  and 
asked  him  to  go  to  a  certain  place  on  a  given 
day.  which  he  agreed  to  do  ;  though  he  had  some 
fears  that  mischief  was  intended.  His  fears  in- 
creased, and  his  promise  was  broken.  But  the 
Indian  came  again  and  renewed  the  request.  The 
man  made  another  engagement,  and  kept  his 
word.  On  reaching  the  spot,  he  found  the  Indian 
provided  with  ammunition,  two  muskets,  and 
two  knapsacks.  He  was  ordered  to  take  one  of 
each;  which  he  did,  and  followed  his  conductor. 
In  the  day  time,  they  shot  the  game  that  came  in 


46  an  Indian's  gratitude. 

their  way,  and  at  night,  they  kindled  a  fire  and 
slept  by  it.  But  the  Indian  observed  a  mysteri- 
ous silence  as  to  the  object  of  their  expedition. 
After  travelling  in  this  manner  many  days,  they 
came  to  the  top  of  a  mountain,  from  which  they 
saw  a  number  of  houses  in  the  midst  of  a  culti- 
vated country.  The  Indian  asked  him  if  he 
knew  the  ground,  and  he  eagerly  answered,  "  It  is 
Litchfield?"  The  Indian  then  recalled  to  his 
mind  the  scene  at  the  inn,  and  bidding  him  fare- 
well, exclaimed,  "  /  am  that  Indian  !  Now  I 
pray  you  go  home." 

Example  of  Disinterested  Benevolence. 

A  traveller  in  Asia  Minor,  in  a  time  of  dis- 
tressing drought,  found  a  vase  of  water  un- 
der a  little  shed  by  the  road-side,  for  the  re- 
freshment of  the  weary  traveller.  A  man  in 
the  neighborhood  was  in  the  habit  of  bringing 
the  water  from  a  considerable  distance,  and  filling 
the  vase  every  morning,  and  then  going  to  his 
work.  He  could  have  had  no  motive  to  do  this, 
but  a  kind  regard  to  the  comfort  of  weary  travel- 
lers, for  he  was  never  there  to  receive  their 
thanks,  much  less  their  money.  This  was  benev- 
olence. 


47 


Section  IV.  —  Manners. 


POLITENESS. 


EV.  Dr.  Witherspoon,  Presi- 
dent of  New-Jersey  College, 
once  gave  out  Politeness,  to  a 
division  of  one  of  his  classes,  as 
a  subject  for  composition.  The 
young  gentlemen  were  delight- 
ed with  it ;  and  when  the  time 
came  for  reading,  some  of  them 
expatiated  upon  it  largely,  learned- 
ly, and  politely.  After  they  had 
all  read,  they  waited  for  the  Presi- 
yffi&grs  dent  to  sum  up  their  observations, 
3fe    and  then  state  his  own  views.     But,  he 


:^  told  them,  he  should  only  give  them  a 
■4§k"      a  snort  definition,  which  they  might  al- 
ways remember.     "  Politeness,"  said 

he,  "IS  REAL    KINDNESS,    KINDLY    EXPRESSED." 

This  is  the  sum  and  substance  of  all  true  polite- 
ness ;  and  if  my  readers  will  put  it  in  practice, 
they  will  be  surprised  to  see  how  every  body  will 
be  charmed  with  their  manners. 


48  A  CHARACTER. 


Good  Breeding. 

Gasskndi  was  a  youth  of  such  extraordinary 
abilities  and  attainments  as  to  command  univer- 
sal admiration  ;  but  in  his  manners  he  was  gen- 
erally silent,  never  ostentatiously  obtruding  upon 
others  his  own  knowledge.  He  was  never  in  a 
hurry  to  give  his  opinion  before  he  knew  that  of 
the  persons  who  were  conversing  with  him.  He 
was  never  fond  of  displaying  himself. 

I  knew  a  young  man  whose  behavior  was  di- 
rectly the  opposite  of  Gassendi's  :  a  compound 
of  ignorance,  self-conceit,  and  impudence.  He 
was  forward  to  talk  in  all  companies.  His  opin- 
ion, on  all  subjects,  was  cheap  —  a  gift  that  went 
a-begging.  He  could  tell  the  farmer  how  to  till 
the  soil  ;  the  mechanic  how  to  use  his  tools  ;  the 
merchant,  how  to  make  his  gains  ;  the  doctor, 
how  to  cure  his  patient;  the  minister,  how  to 
preach  ;  and  the  cook,  how  to  bake  her  bread. 
He  wanted  only  a  pair  of  long  ears  to  complete 
his  character. 


49 


Section  V.  —  Overcome  Evil  with  Good. 
A   BLACK    BOV 

OME  boys  are  mean  enough 
to  ridicule  others  for  natural 
defects,  for  which  they  are  not 
to  blame  ;  and  k  is  a  \evv  com- 
mon thing  to  consider  the  color 
of  the  skin  as  a  mark  of  infe- 
riority. But  even  if  it  were  so, 
it  would  be  no  ground  of  re- 
proach, for  it  is  the  color  which 
God  gave.  Mr.  Southey,  the  poet, 
relates  that,  when  he  was  a  small 
boy,  there  was  a  black  hoy  in  the 
jhborhood,  who  was  called  Jim  Dick. 
Southey  and  a  number  of  his  play  fel- 
lows, as  they  were  collected  together 
one  evening  at  their  sports,  began  to  tor- 
ment the  poor  black  boy,  calling  him  •'  nigger" 
"blackamoor"  and  other  nicknames.  The  poor 
fellow  was  very  much  grieved,  and  soon  left  them. 
Soon  after,  these  boys  had  an  appointment  to  go 
a  skating,  and  on  that  day  Southey  broke  his 
5 


50  GOOD    FOR    EVIL. 

skates.  After  all  his  rude  treatment  of  poor 
Jim,  he  \a  as  mean  enough  to  go  and  ask  him  to 
lend  his  skates.  "  Oyes,  John,"  Jim  replied,  "  you 
may  have  them  and  welcome."  When  he  went  to 
return  them,  he  found  Jim  sitting  in  the  kitchen 
reading  his  Bible.  As  Southey  handed  Dick  his 
6kates,  the  latter  looked  at  him  with  tears  in  hi; 
eyes,  and  said,  "John,  don't  ever  call  me  black 
amoor  again,"  and  immediately  left  the  room 
Southey  burst  into  tears,  and  from  that  time  re 
solved  never  again  to  abuse  a  poor  black  —  a 
resolution  which  I  hope  every  one  of  my  readers 
will  make  and  never  break.  But,  if  you  will  fol- 
low the  example  of  this  poor  colored  boy,  and 
return  good  for  evil,  you  will  always  find  it  the 
best  retaliation  you  can  make  for  an  injury. 

The  converted  soldier. 

A  soldier  in  the  East  Indies,  a  stout,  lion-look- 
ing, lion-hearted  man,  had  been  a  noted  prize- 
fighter, and  a  terror  to  those  who  knew  him. 
With  one  blow  he  could  level  a  strong  man  to 
the  ground.  That  man  sauntered  into  the  mis- 
sion chapel,  heard  the  gospel,  and  was  alarmed. 
He  returned  again  and  again,  and  at  last,  light 
broke  in  upon  his  mind,  and  he  became  a  new  crea- 
ture.    The  change  in  his  character  was  marked 


GOOD    FOR   EVIL.  51 

and  decided.  The  lion  was  changed  into  a  lamb. 
Two  months  afterwards,  in  the  mess-room,  some 
of  those  who  had  been  afraid  of  him  before  began 
'  to  ridicule  him.  One  of  them  said,  "  I  '11  put  it  to 
the  test  whether  he  is  a  Christian  or  not ;"  and  tak- 
ing a  basin  of  hot  soup,  he  threw  it  into  his  bosom. 
The  whole  company  gazed  in  breathless  silence, 
expecting  that  the  lion  would  start  up,  and 
murder  him  on  the  spot.  But  after  he  had 
torn  open  his  waistcoat,  and  wiped  his  scalded 
breast,  he  calmly  turned  round  and  said,  "  This 
is  what  I  must  expect :  If  I  become  a  Christian, 
I  must  suffer  persecution."  His  comrades  were 
filled  with  astonishment.     This  was  overcoming 

o 

evil  with  good.  If  the  reader  will  follow  this 
man's  example,  he  will  save  himself  a  world  of 
difficulty. 

The  forgiving  school  boy. 
» 
In  a  school  in  Ireland,  one  boy  struck  another ; 

and  when  he  was  about  to  be  punished,  the  injured 
boy  earnestly  begged  for  his  pardon.  The  master 
inquired  why  he  wished  to  prevent  so  deserved  a 
punishment  ;  to  which  he  replied,  that  he  had 
read  in  the  Xew-Testament  that  Jesus  Christ  said 
we  should  forgive  our  enemies  ;  and  I  forgive  him, 
and  beg  he  may  not  be  punished  for  my  sake." 


52 


Section  VI. — Use  of  the  Tongue. 


ADVANTAGES    OF    SPEAKING    THE 
TRUTH. 

T  is  a  great  advantage  to  any 
one  to  have  the  confidence 
of  others,  so  far  that  his 
word  will  always  be  taken  for 
the  exact  truth.  This  confi- 
dence is  to  be  acquired  only 
by  always  speaking  the  truth  ; 
and  especially,  by  adhering  so 
closely  to  the  fact  that  people  will 
not  only  believe  that  we  mean  to 
speak  the  truth,  but  that  they  will 
feel  confident  that  we  have  neither 
mistaken  the  facts,  nor  added  any  color- 
ing, nor  kept  back  any  thing,  to  make  it 
appear  different  from  the  reality.  The 
following  story  shows  how  great  an  ad- 
vantage one  may  derive  from  having  this  confi- 
dence in  his  strict  veracity  established: 

Petrarch,  the  celebrated  Italian  poet,  by  his 
strict  regard  for  truth,  secured  the  unbounded 
confidence  of  Cardinal  Colonna,  in  whose  family 


SPEAKING    TRUTH.  53 

he  resided.  A  violent  quarrel  broke  out  among 
the  Cardinal's  numerous  family  of  servants, 
which  ended  in  a  fight.  The  Cardinal,  in  order 
to  investigate  the  affair,  and  punish  the  offenders, 
assembled  all  his  people  and  put  them  under  oath 
to  tell  the  whole  truth.  Every  one  took  the  oath, 
not  excepting  the  bishop  of  Luna,  the  Cardinal's 
own  brother.  Petrarch,  in  his  turn,  presented 
himself,  but  the  Cardinal  closed  the  book,  saying, 
"As  to  you,  Petrarch,  your  word  is  sufficient." 
Our  readers  will  perceive  how  great  an  advan 
tage  it  will  be  to  them  to  have  always  such  a 
strict  regard  to  the  exact  truth,  that  their  word 
will  be  considered  as  good  as  an  oath. 

Remember  the  bright  side. 

When  Peter  the  Great  heard  any  one  speak 
ing  ill  of  another,  he  would  inquire,  "  Is  there 
not  a  fair  side,  also,  to  the  character  of  the  per- 
son of  whom  you  are  speaking  ?  Come,  tell  me 
what  good  qualities  you  have  remarked  about 
him."  If,  in  speaking  of  others,  we  should  look 
always  at  the  fair  side,  and  see  what  good  things 
we  can  say  of  them,  it  would  make  us  feel  bet- 
ter towards  them;  it  would  be  doing  them  a  ser- 
vice instead  of  an  injury  ;  it  would  tend  to  make 
peace,  rather  than  foment  strife. 


54 


Section  VII.  —  Punctuality. 
EXAMPLE    OF    WASHINGTON. 

^w*^>u^^v^  i^.  HEN  Washington  appointed 
A  the  hour  of  twelve  to  meet 
Congress,  he  never  failed  to 
be  passing  the  door  of  the 
hall  while  the  clock  was 
striking  twelve.  His  din- 
ner hour  was  four  o'clock. 
If  his  guests  were  not  there 
at  the  time,  he  never  waited  for 
them.  New  members  of  Congress, 
who  were  invited  to  dine  with  him, 
would  frequently  come  in  when 
dinner  was  half  over;  and  he  would 
say  to  them,  "  Gentlemen,  we  are  punc- 
tual here.  My  cook  never  asks  whether 
the  company  has  arrived,  but  whether 
the  hour  has."  In  1799,  when  on  a  visit  to  Bos- 
ton, he  appointed  eight  o'clock  in  the  morning  as 
the  hour  when  he  would  set  out  for  Salem. 
While  the  Old  South  clock  wras  striking  eight,  he 
was  mounting  his  horse.     The  company  of  cav- 


SAMUEL    WESLEY.  00 

airy,  who  had  volunteered  to  escort  him,  was  pa- 
rading in  Tremont  street,  and  did  not  overtake 
him  till  he  had  reached  Charles  River  Bridge. 
On  their  arrival,  the  General  said,  "  Major,  I 
thought  you  had  been  too  long  in  my  family  not 
to  know  when  it  -was  eisrht  o'clock." 


Samuel  Wesley,  Esq. 

Samuel  Wesley,  Esq.,  was  one  of  the  greatest 
musicians  of  his  age.  His  musical  powers  were 
developed  while  he  was  a  child,  and  excited  the 
greatest  admiration.  But  he  was  as  great  a  lover 
of  regular  habits  as  of  song.  No  company  or 
persuasion  could  keep  him  up  beyond  his  regular 
time  for  going  to  bed.  For  this  reason,  he  could 
seldom  be  persuaded  to  go  to  a  concert  in  the 
night.  The  moment  the  clock  struck  eight,  away 
ran  Samuel,  in  the  midst  of  his  most  favorite 
amusement.  Once  he  rose  up  from  the  first  part 
of  the  Jlessiah,  saying,  "  Come,  mamma,  let  us 
go  home,  or  I  shan't  be  in  bed  by  eight."  When 
some  friends  talked  of  carrying  him  to  the  queen, 
and  his  father  asked  him  if  he  was  willing  to  go, 
he  replied,  "  Yes,  with  all  my  heart ;  but  I  won't 
stay  beyond  eight."  This  was  a  wise  resolution  ; 
for  children  are  sadly  injured,  by  being  kept  up 
late  at  night. 


56  PUNCTUALITY. 


Five  minutes  too  late. 

The  following  amusing  sketch,  though  perhaps 
fictitious,  gives  a  pretty  faithful  picture  of  many 
a  man's  life : 

"  When  a  child,  I  was  scolded  for  being  too  late 
at  school ;  when  a  boy,  I  was  cuffed  and  kicked 
for  being  too  late  at  my  work  ;  and  when  a  man, 
I  was  turned  awray  for  being  behind  my  time  on 
a  particular  occasion  when  my  services  wrere 
wanted. 

"  My  uncle  Jonathan  was  well  to  do  in  the  world, 
and  as  his  nephew's  wrere  his  nearest  relations,  we 
had  reason  to  expect  that  his  property  would 
come  among  us.  He  had,  however,  one  peculiar- 
ity, wrhich  effectually  shut  his  door  against  me. 
He  never  was  five  minutes  too  late  in  an  appoint- 
ment in  his  life,  and  thought  most  contemptuously 
of  those  wTho  wTere.  I  really  believe  that  I  was 
a  bit  of  a  favorite  with  him  until  my  unfortunate 
failing  justly  offended  him. 

"  He  had  occasion  to  go  a  journey,  and  I  was 
directed  to  be  with  him  at  seven  in  the  morning, 
to  carry  his  portmanteau  to  the  coach.  Alas  !  I 
was  "  Five  minutes  too  late,"  and  he  had  left  the 
house. 


FIVE    MINUTES    TOO    LATE.  57 

"  Knowing  his  particularity,  I  hurried  after  him, 
and  running  till  I  could  scarcely  stand,  arrived  at 
one  end  of  the  street  just  in  time  to  see  the  coach 
go  off  with  my  uncle  at  the  other.  Dearly  did  I 
pay  for  being  "  Five  minutes  too  late." 

"  My  Uncle  did  not  return  for  a  month,  and  cer- 
tainly showed  more  forbearance  toward  me  than 
he  was  ever  known  to  do  on  a  similar  occasion  ; 
for  in  a  letter  he  stated,  that  if  I  could  be  punc- 
tual, he  should  wish  me  to  meet  him  on  his  return, 
to  take  charge  of  his  portmanteau,  and  thereby 
make  some  amends  for  my  misconduct.  Off  I 
set,  but  knowing  that  coaches  frequently  arrive  a 
quarter  of  an  hour  after  their  set  time,  I  thought 
a  minute  or  two  could  be  of  no  consequence. 
The  coach  unfortunately,  was  "  horridly  exact," 
and  once  more  I  was  after  my  time,  just  "  Five 
minutes  too  late." 

"  My  Uncle  Jonathan  never  forgave  me,  fully 
believing  that  I  had  done  it  on  purpose  to  get  rid 
of  the  trouble  of  carrying  his  portmanteau. 
Years  rolled  away,  and  I  was  not  so  much  as 
permitted  to  enter  the  door  of  my  Uncle  Jona- 
than. 

"  Time,  however,  heals  many  a  sore,  and  while 
it  ruffles  many  a  smooth  brow,  smooths  many  a 
ruffled  temper.  My  Uncle  Jonathan  so  far  re- 
lented, that  Avhen  about  to  make  his  will,  he  sent 


58  FIVE    MINUTES    TOO    LATE. 

to  me  to  call  upon  him  exactly  at  ten  o'clock. 
Determined  to  be  in  time,  I  set  off,  allowing  my- 
self some  minutes  to  spare  and  pulling  out  my 
watch  at  the  door,  found  that  for  once  in  mj  life 
I  had  kept  my  appointment  to  the  second.  The 
servant,  to  my  surprise,  told  me,  that  my  Uncle 
Jonathan  had  ordered  the  door  to  be  shut  in  my 
face  for  being  behind  my  time.  It  was  then  I 
found  out  my  watch  was  too  slowT,  and  that  I  was 
exactly  "  Five  minutes  too  late." 

"Had  I  been  earlier  on  that  occasion  I  might 
have  been  provided  for,  but  now  I  am  a  poor 
man,  and  a  poor  man  I  am  likely  to  remain. 
However,  good  may  arise  from  my  giving  this 
short  account  of  my  foolish  habit,  as  it  may  pos- 
sibly convince  some  of  the  value  of  punctuality, 
and  dispose  them  to  avoid  the  manifold  evils  of 
being  "  Five  minutes  too  late." 

Few  young  persons  are  sensible  of  the  impor- 
tance of  punctuality,  because  they  are  not  aware 
of  the  value  of  time.  But  time  is  money  ;  and 
to  rob  a  man  of  his  time,  by  obliging  him  to  wait 
beyond  the  appointed  hour  to  meet  your  engage- 
ment with  him,  is  equivalent  to  robbing  him  of 
so  much  money  as  he  could  have  earned  in  the 
lost  time.  The  habit  of  punctuality  must  be 
acquired  early.  Be  punctual  in  the  family  and 
school,  and  you  will  be  a  punctual  man. 


Section  Vlll. — Contention, 


DANGER    OF    CONTENTION 


^- ■-...■•/  H->  m  C( 


■*B  ?■ 


UARRELLIXG  generally 
arises  from  selfishness  and  an- 
ger. Selfishness  is  grasping. 
It  respects  not  the  rights  of 
others.  It  will  yield  none  of 
its  own.  The  selfish  person  is 
efore  continually  coming 
conflict  with  others  ;  and,  as 
impediments  are  thrown  in  the 
■'■ II  s*YJJ  way  of  his  gratification,  his  pas- 
«J  sions  are  roused.  Anger  is  a  spe- 
cies of  insanity.  When  one  yields 
to  his  passions,  he  loses  self-control. 
He  takes  an  enemy  into  his  bosom,  and 
suffers  himself  to  be  nosed  about  by  him 
at  will.  No  one  can  tell  what  dreadful 
thing  he  may  do  when  once  he  giyes  a  loose  rein 
to  his  passions. 

"The  beginning  of  strife  is  as  the  letting  out 
of  waters."  When  you  open  a  little  drain  to  a 
pond  of  water,  it  runs  slowly  at  first,  in  a  very 


GO  CONTENTION. 

small  stream  ;  but  the  body  of  water  above  rushes 
into  the  channel  and  wears  it  deeper,  and  that 
increases  the  pressure  and  widens  it  still  more, 
till  presently  the  whole  body  comes  pouring  forth 
in  an  irresistible  torrent.  One  dry  season,  in 
the  summer,  a  man  in  Vermont,  who  owned  a 
mill,  on  a  small  stream  near  a  large  pond,  found 
his  water  failing,  so  that  his  mill  was  likely  to 
stop.  To  prevent  this,  he  collected  together  a 
few  of  the  neighbors,  and  dug  a  little  trench  from 
the  pond  to  the  stream  that  carried  his  mill.  At 
first  it  ran  very  slowly  and  quietly  along,  till  it 
began  to  wear  away  the  channel,  and  to  turn  the 
force  of  the  body  of  water  in  the  pond  in  that 
direction,  when  it  increased  violently,  tore  away 
the  banks,  and  poured  the  whole  contents  of  the 
pond  into  the  little  stream,  carried  off  the  mill, 
and  rushed  on  with  impetuous  fury  through  the 
valley,  sweeping  away  fences,  bridges,  barns, 
houses,  and  every  thing  that  came  in  its  way. 

At  a  place  called  Brag  Corner,  in  the  State  of 
Maine,  a  small  stream  falls  into  the  Sandy  river, 
on  which  a  superior  grist-mill  was  erected  a  few 
years  since.  The  stream  not  affording  water 
enough,  a  pond  containing  fifty  or  one  hundred 
acres,  having  no  outlet,  and  lying  two  hundred 
feet  above  the  level  where  the  mill  stood,  was 
connected  with  the  stream  that  carried  the  mill 


CONTENTION.  61 

by  an  artificial  canal.  The  water  of  the  pond 
began  to  gully  away  the  gravel  over  which  it 
was  made  to  run,  and  having  formed  a  regular 
channel,  defied  all  human  control,  and,  in  the  .-pace 
of  six  hours,  cut  a  ravine  seventy  feet  deep,  and 
let  out  the  whole  pond,  sweeping  away  the  mill, 
foundation  and  all,  and  carrying  away  a  house 
and  blacksmith's  shop,  which  stood  near,  not  giving 
the  owner  time  to  save  any  thing  of  consequence 
from  his  house. 

Such,  Solomon  says,  is  strife.  When  you  be- 
gin to  quarrel,  you  know  not  where  it  will  end. 
It  not  unfrequently  terminates  in  the  death  of  one 
of  the  parties,  as  in  the  following  case  :  A  boy 
about  eleven  years  of  age,  son  of  Mr.  Philip 
Petty,  of  Westport,  R.  I.,  took  his  father's  gun, 
as  he  said,  to  go  a  gunning.  His  elder  brother 
attempted  to  take  it  from  him.  A  quarrel  en- 
sued, between  the  two  brothers,  and  in  the  course 
of  the  scuffle,  the  gun  went  off  and  lodged  the  con- 
tents in  the  younger  one's  bowels.  He  lingered 
a  few  hours  in  great  agony  and  died.  How 
must  the  other  one  feel,  to  think  that  the  quarrel, 
which  he  began,  led  to  the  death  of  his  brother. 
How  much  safer  to  take  Solomon's  advice,  and 
u  leave  off  contention  before  it  be  meddled  with." 


62  ANGER. 


Danger  of  Indulging  anger. 

Frederick  Jones  was  the  son  of  a  rich  manu- 
facturer. His  father  being  engrossed  in  busi- 
ness, the  children  were  left  to  the  care  of  their 
mother,  who,  being  a  weak  woman,  did  not  re- 
strain them  as  she  ought.  There  were  four,  but 
three  of  them  died  ;  and  Frederick  being  left  the 
only  child,  was  indulged  still  more.  At  a  very 
early  age  he  showed  his  angry  temper ;  and  he 
became  such  a  little  tyrant  that  the  very  dogs 
and  cats  about  the  house  were  afraid  of  him. 
Once,  when  he  was  three  years  old,  he  insisted 
that  he  would  have  the  silver  tea-urn,  to  drag 
about  the  room  by  a  string  for  his  coach.  And, 
because  his  mother  refused  to  let  him  do  so,  he 
seized  her  cap  and  tore  it  from  her  head. 

When  Frederick  was  ten  years  old,  he  went 
into  the  kitchen,  where  the  servants  used  to  let 
him  do  as  he  pleased  for  fear  of  his  dreadful  tem- 
per; for  they  called  him  "  Mamma's  pet  lion" 
He  had  not  been  long  there  before  he  upset  the 
table,  knocked  down  the  shovel  and  tongs,  and 
broke  several  plates.  Not  satisfied  with  this,  he 
collected  all  the  tin  things  in  the  middle  of  the 
floor,  and  began  battering  them  with  the  tongs. 


EFFECTS    OF    ANGER.  63 

The  cook,  not  being  very  well  pleased  with  this 
destruction,  undertook  to  lead  him  out  of  the 
kitchen.  But  the  little  fury,  by  shrieking  and 
scratching,  got  free,  and  seizing  a  fork,  he  threw 
it  at  the  cook,  which  struck  her  in  the  eye  and  put 
it  out.  Thus,  by  the  foolish  anger  of  this  little 
boy,  a  poor  woman  lost  the  sight  of  her  eye  en- 
tirely. This  shows  the  danger  of  indulging  angry 
passions  ;  for  no  one  knows  what  a  dreadful  deed 
he  may  commit  in  a  fit  of  anger.  It  shows  also 
the  danger  of  throwing  things  at  others.  It  is  a 
very  dangerous  practice,  and  sometimes  leads  to 
the  loss  of  life. 

A  little  while  after  this,  Frederick  was  playing 
at  the  front  door  of  the  house,  when  a  boy  passing 
on  the  other  side  of  the  street,  called  out,  "  Hallo, 
Master  Fred.,  have  you  put  any  more  people's 
eyes  out  lately  ? "  This  was  enough  to  make 
him  angry.  He  immediately  picked  up  a  large 
stone,  and  chasing  the  boy  some  distance,  threw 
it  at  him  with  all  his  might.  The  boy  was  out 
of  the  way  of  the  stone,  but  it  struck  a  large 
bull-dog,  which,  naturally  enough,  concluded  that 
he  was  unjustly  attacked,  and  turning  upon  Fred- 
erick, gave  him  a  severe  bite  in  the  leg,  and  toss- 
ed him  into  the  gutter.  Frederick  roared  aloud 
with  pain  and  rage,  and  had  to  be  carried  home 
to  his  bed,  where  he  lay  for  several  weeks.     But 


64  FREDERICK. 

nobody  pitied  him.  The  people  who  heard  of  it, 
knowing  his  temper,  thought  the  dog  had  done  a 
praiseworthy  act. 

After  this,  Frederick's  father  sent  him  to  a 
boarding  school,  about  twenty  miles  from  home,  to 
a  very  strict  master.  Here  he  was  in  continual 
broils  with  his  school-fellows.  There  was  scarce- 
ly a  boy  in  the  school  with  whom  he  did  not  have 
a  fight.  But  generally  he  came  off  with  a  bleed- 
ing nose  or  a  black  eye,  because  his  passions  took 
away  his  strength,  and  the  other  boys  were  an 
overmatch  for  him.  His  school-mates  generally 
did  not  like  to  fight ;  but  this  angry  boy  would 
fly  at  them  for  the  most  trifling  thing,  and  force 
them  to  defend  themselves. 

Frederick's  father  died  before  he  was  twenty 
years  of  age  ;  and  as  he  loved  amusement  better 
than  business,  he  sold  the  manufactory,  and  trav- 
elled in  Europe ;  where  he  was  very  dissipated, 
and  fought  two  duels,  in  both  of  which  he  was 
wounded.  During  his  absence,  his  mother  had 
become  a  good  woman;  and  on  his  return,  he 
found  her  company  disagreeable.  She  entreated 
him  to  break  off  his  e^l  courses.  But  this  only 
made  him  angry.  To  get  rid  of  her  reproofs,  he 
left  her  and  went  to  one  of  the  Western  States. 
There,  while  he  was  engaged  at  a  public  house, 
with   some  of  his   wicked   companions,   talking 


END    OF    A    BAD    TEMPER.  65 

politics,  one  of  them  called  him  a  liar,  and  he 
drew  out  his  dirk  and  stabbed  him  to  tha  heart. 
He  ran  away  from  the  place,  but  the  image  of 
the  murdered  man  haunted  him  day  and  night, 
and  made  him  wretched.  He  gave  himself  up  to 
intoxication,  and  at  the  age  of  twenty-three  years, 
fell  into  a  drunkard's  grave,  some  time  after  his 
mother  had  died  of  a  broken  heart  on  his  ac- 
count. All  this  came  upon  Frederick,  in  conse- 
quence of  not  restraining  his  passions  while  ia 
boy.  His  violent,  ungovernable  temper  might 
have  been  subdued,  when  he  was  a  child  ;  but  by 
indulgence  it  increased  in  strength,  till  it  became 
perfectly  unmanageable. 

Be  kind  to  your  sister. 

The  following  affecting  story,  which  is  given 
in  the  language  of  the  brother  himself,  will  ad- 
monish every  boy  who  reads  it,  to  be  kind  to  his 
sisters,  and  especially  to  avoid  blows  on  the  head, 
as  it  is  probable  the  blow  given  this  little  girl  by 
her  brother  was  the  cause  of  her  death.  What 
a  shame  for  a  brother  to  strike  his  sister ! 

"  One  morning  in  my  early  life,  I  remember  to 

have  been  playing  with  my  younger  sister,  not 

then  three  years  old.     It  was  one  of  those  bright 

mornings  in  spring,  that  bring  joy  and  life  to  the 

6* 


66  BE  KIND  TO  TOUR  SISTER. 

heart,  and  diffuse  gladness  and  animation  through 
all  the*  tribes  of  living  creatures.  Our  feelings 
were  in  perfect  harmony  with  the  universal  glad- 
ness of  nature.  Even  now  I  seem  to  hear  the 
merry  laugh  of  my  little  sister,  as  she  followed 
me  through  the  winding  alleys  of  the  garden,  her 
cheek  suffused  with  the  glow  of  health  and  anima- 
tion, and  her  waving  hair  floating  in  the  wind. 

"  She  was  an  only  sister,  the  sole  companion 
of  all  my  childish  sports.  We  were  constantly 
together ;  and  my  young  heart  went  out  to  hers, 
with  all  the  affection,  all  the  fondness,  of  which 
childhood  is  capable.  Nothing  afforded  me  en- 
joyment in  which  she  did  not  participate  ;  no 
amusement  was  sought  which  we  could  not  share 
together. 

"  That  morning  we  had  prolonged  our  play  till 
near  the  hour  of  breakfast,  with  undiminished 
ardor,  when  at  some  slight  provocation,  my  im- 
petuous nature  broke  forth,  and  in  my  anger,  I 
struck  my  little  sister  a  blow  with  my  hand.  She 
turned  to  me  with  an  appealing  look,  and  the 
large  tears  came  into  her  eyes.  Her  heart  was 
too  full  to  allow  her  to  speak,  and  shame  made 
me  silent.  At  that  moment  the  breakfast  bell 
summoned  us  away,  and  we  returned  to  the  house 
without  exchanging  a  word.  The  excitement  of 
play  was  over,  and  as  she  sat  beside  my  mother 


BE  KIND  TO  YOUR  SISTER.  67 

at  breakfast,  I  perceived  by  occasional  stolen 
glances  at  her  that  she  was  pale  and  sad.  A  tear 
seemed  ready  to  start  in  her  eye,  which  her  little 
self-possession  could  scarcely  repress.  It  was 
only  when  my  mother  inquired  if  she  was  ill, 
that  she  endeavored  to  eat.  I  was  ashamed  and 
grieved,  and  inwardly  resolved  to  embrace  the 
first  opportunity  when  we  were  alone,  to  throw 
my  arms  round  her  neck  and  entreat  her  forgive- 
ness. 

"  When  breakfast  was  ended,  my  mother  retired 
with  her  into  her  own  room,  directing  me  in  the 
meantime  to  sit  down  to  my  lesson.  I  seated 
myself  by  the  window,  and  ran  over  my  lesson, 
but  did  not  learn  it.  My  thoughts  were  perpet- 
ually recurring  to  the  scene  in  the  garden  and  at 
table.  It  was  long  before  my  mother  returned, 
and  when  she  did,  it  was  with  an  agitated  look, 
and  hurried  step,  to  tell  me  that  my  poor  Ellen 
was  very  ill.  I  asked  eagerly  if  I  might  go  to 
her,  but  was  not  permitted,  lest  I  should  disturb 
her.  A  physician  was  called  and  every  means 
used  for  her  recovery,  but  to  no  purpose.  The 
disease,  which  was  in  her  head,  constantly  in- 
creased in  violence,  and  she  became  delirious. 
It  was  not  until  evening  that  I  was  permitted  to 
see  her.  She  was  a  little  recovered  from  the 
severity  of  her  pain,  and  lay  with  her  eyes  closed, 


68  BE  KIND  TO  TOUR  SISTER. 

and  her  little  hand  resting  on  the  pillow  beneath 
her  head.  How  I  longed  to  tell  her  the  sorrow 
I  felt  for  my  unkindness  to  her  in  the  morning 
and  how  much  I  had  suffered  for  it  during  the  day. 
But  I  was  forbidden  to  speak  to  her,  and  was  soon 
taken  out  of  the  room.  During  that  night  and 
the  day  following,  she  continued  to  grow  worse. 
I  saw  her  several  times,  but  she  was  always 
insensible  of  my  presence.  Once  indeed,  she 
showed  some  signs  of  consciousness,  and  asked 
for  me  ;  but  immediately  relapsed  into  her  former 
state. 

"  On  the  morning  of  the  third  day,  I  rose  at 
an  early  hour,  and  repaired  to  the  sick  room. 
My  mother  was  sitting  by  the  bed.  As  I  entered, 
she  drew  me  to  her,  and  for  some  time  was  silent, 
while  the  tears  flowed  fast  down  her  face.  I  first 
learned  that  my  sweet  sister  was  dead,  as  my 
mother  drew  aside  the  curtain  that  concealed  her 
from  me.  I  felt  as  though  my  heart  would  break. 
The  remembrance  of  her  affection  for  me,  and 
my  last  unkind  deed,  revived  in  my  mind  ;  and 
burying  my  face  in  the  folds  of  the  curtain,  I  wept 
long  and  bitterly. 

"  I  saw  her  laid  in  the  coffin,  and  lowered  into 
the  grave.  I  almost  wished  to  lie  down  there 
with  her,  if  so  I  might  see  once  more  her  smile 
and  hear  my  forgiveness  in  her  sweet  voice. 


TEAZING.  69 

"  Years  have  passed  away  and  I  am  now  a 
man  —  but  never  does  the  recollection  of  this 
incident  of  my  early  life  fail  to  awaken  bitter 
feelings  of  grief  and  remorse.  And  never  do  I 
6ee  my  young  friends  exchanging  looks  or  words 
of  anger,  without  thinking  of  my  last  pastime 
with  my  own  loved  Ellen." 

Teazing  and  being  teazed. 

Some  children  take  great  delight  in  teazing. 
The  way  to  avoid  such  annoyances  is,  to  take  no 
notice  of  them.  Respect  yourself  too  much  to 
be  disturbed  by  those  who  disregard  the  common 
courtesies  of  life.  If  they  find  they  cannot  teaze 
you,  they  will  cease  to  make  the  attempt.  The 
late  Dr.  Bowditch  (a  man  who  attained  to  great 
eminence,  as  a  man  of  learning  and  science),  was 
the  son  of  a  poor  sailor.  His  parents  were  so 
poor  that  he  was  obliged  to  wear  his  summer 
clothes  to  school,  during  the  whole  winter.  His 
schoolmates  would  sometimes  laugh  at  him,  be- 
cause he  wore  such  thin  clothes.  But  they  could 
never  make  him  angry,  or  disturb  his  equanimity. 
All  the  notice  he  took  of  their  jeers  was,  to  laugh 
at  them  for  thinking  that  he  was  unable  to  bear 
the  cold.  If  you  follow  his  example,  you  will 
never  suffer  much  from  being  teazed. 


70 


CHAPTER  IV. 

BAD  COMPANY  AND  BAD  HABITS. 


0  you  remember  what  Solo- 
mon says  about  bad  company  ? 
"  Enter  not  into  the  path  of 
the  wicked,  and  go  not  in  the 
way  of  evil  men.  For  they 
sleep  not  except  they  have 
done  mischief;  and  their  sleep 
is  taken  away,  unless  they 
cause  some  to  fall." 

Mr.  Green,  the  Reformed  Gam- 
bler, relates  that,  at  the  age  of  six- 
teen, he  was  laboring  industriously, 
in  the  city  of  Cincinnati,  and  saving  his 
wages.  But  he  became  acquainted  with 
a  bad  set  of  boys,  who  visited  a  ten-pin 
alley.  In  his  leisure  hours,  instead  of 
spending  his  time  in  reading  and  treasuring  up 
useful  knowledge,  he  would  frequent  this  den  of 
iniquity ;  and  Sabbath  days,  instead  of  going  to 
meeting,  he  would  go  with  the  same  set  of  boys 
to  a  place  of  amusement  and  sin,  a  little  way  out 


BAD    COMPANY.  71 

of  the  city.  In  a  short  time,  this  evil  company 
had  erased  every  tender  affection  from  his  bosom. 
On  one  of  these  misspent  Sabbaths,  he  fell  in  with 
a  rough  set  of  lawless  boys,  and  got  into  a  fight 
with  them,  and  was  seen  thus  engaged  by  the 
city  marshal. 

The  next  morning,  a  stranger,  whom  he  met 
at  his  boarding  house,  inquired  of  him  respecting 
the  different  places  of  amusement  in  the  city,  and 
he  took  him  to  the  ten-pin  alley,  where  he  was  in 
the  habit  of  going.  While  they  were  there,  en- 
gaged in  bowling,  a  man  came  staggering  in,  to 
all  appearance,  half  drunk.  He  pulled  out  three 
thimbles,  and  tried  to  find  some  one  to  play  with 
him  for  drink.  This  is  a  swindler's  game,  through 
which  he  picks  the  pockets  of  fools,  by  persuad- 
ing them  to  bet  that  they  can  tell  under  which  of 
three  thimbles  he  places  a  ball.  It  is  all  a  cheat. 
The  landlord  played  and  won,  and  the  man  ap- 
peared very  angry;  but  this  was  only  a  bait,  to 
blind  the  eyes  of  the  young  men,  and  induce  thero 
to  bet.  They  were  caught ;  and  they  lost  what 
money  they  had,  Mr.  Green  two  dollars,  and  the 
stranger,  twenty-five.  They  tried  in  vain  to  get 
back  their  money.  At  length,  the  man  who  was 
with  Green  went  to  the  Mayor's  office,  and  re- 
lated the  story  ;  and  the  city  marshal,  having  seen 
Green  the  day  before  engaged  in  a  fight,  suspect- 


72  BETTING. 

ed  that  he  was  leagued  with  the  gamblers,  and 
had  him  arrested ;  and  though  no  proof  was 
brought  against  him,  he  was  lined  and  sent  to  jail. 
There  he  was  kept  for  several  months,  in  com- 
pany with  counterfeiters,  murderers,  highway- 
men, and  gamblers,  wrhose  principal  amusement 
v^as  card-playing ;  when  he  was  discharged  pen- 
niless, in  rags,  and  with  a  bad  character.  This 
was  the  commencement  of  his  career  of  vice,  his 
reformation  from  which  is  the  next  thing  to  a 
miracle.  All  this  came  upon  him  in  consequence 
of  keeping  bad  company.  Learn  from  it  to  avoid 
evil  company  and  betting.  The  boy  that  suffers 
himself  to  bet  the  smallest  amount,  has  already 
entered  the  downhill  road  of  the  gambler's  career. 
And  there  is  no  evil  that  can  be  named  but  he 
may  be  drawn  into,  who  begins  to  keep  bad  com- 
pany. You  might  as  well  expect  to  go  into  a 
lazarhouse,  without  being  infected,  as  to  go  into 
bad  company,  and  not  fall  into  evil  habits. 

Prof  an  eness. 

Perhaps  there  is  no  bad  company  to  which  boys 
are  more  exposed  than  the  profane  ;  and  none 
which  is  more  corrupting.  Young  people  insen- 
sibly fall  into  the  habits  of  those  with  whom  they 
associate.     If  they  hear  them  interlard  their  con- 


PROFANENESS.  73 

versation  with  by-words  and  oaths,  they  will  be 
strongly  tempted  to  do  the  same.  They  will  be- 
gin, perhaps,  with  by-words  and  little  oaths,  which 
show  a  disposition  to  be  profane,  without  courage 
to  carry  it  out.  But  they  will  not  long  stop  here. 
They  will  soon  overcome  the  chidings  of  con- 
science, and  then  they  can  be  as  foul-mouthed  as 
any  of  their  companions.  This  vice  hardens  the 
heart,  and  prepares  it  for  every  other ;  for  he 
who  despises  God  will  despise  man.  He  who 
takes  the  name  of  God  in  vain,  will  not  hesitate 
to  break  all  his  commandments.  Profaneness  is 
one  of  the  meanest  of  all  vices.  It  involves 
every  thing  that  is  little  and  mean.  It  is  treating 
with  the  utmost  indignity  our  Greatest  Benefac- 
tor. It  is  a  kind  of  gratuitous  wickedness  ;  for 
there  is  no  motive  for  it  but  a  disposition  to  do 
evil.  The  profane  boy  is  a  dangerous  companion. 
He  will  lead  you  into  you  know  not  what  mis- 
chief and  difficulty.  The  only  way  is  to  avoid 
him,  as  you  would  a  black  snake,  or  a  person  that 
has  the  small  pox.  If  you  go  with  him,  he  will, 
most  likely,  lead  you  to  ruin. 

Washington's  opinion  of  profaneness. 

•  No  gentleman  will  use  profane  language.     It  is 
an  outrage  upon  good  manners.     No  one  can  be 

7 


74  PR0FANENK3S. 

called  a  gentleman,  who  is  guilty  of  it.  It  is  a 
vice  that  has  always  been  held  in  detestation  by 
the  great  and  the  good.  General  Washington 
would  never  allow  it  in  his  army.  In  1757, 
while  a  colonel,  at  Fort  Cumberland,  when  he 
was  a  young  man,  he  issued  an  order,  expressing 
his  "  great  displeasure,"  at  the  prevalence  of 
profane  cursing  and  swearing,  and  threatening 
those  who  were  guilty  of  it  with  severe  punish- 
ment. The  day  after  he  took  the  command  of 
the  Revolutionary  army  he  issued  a  similar 
order.  In  August,  1776,  he  issued  another  order 
against  this  vice,  in  which  he  speaks  of  it  as  "  a 
vice  so  mean  and  loiv,  without  any  temptation, 
that  every  man  of  sense  and  character  detests 
and  despises  it."  He  also  strictly  forbade  gam- 
in" and  drunkenness. 


o 


Howards  opinion  of  Swearers. 

Howard,  the  Philanthropist,  standing  in  the 
street,  heard  some  dreadful  oaths  and  curses  from 
a  public  house  opposite.  Having  occasion  to  go 
across,  he  first  buttoned  up  his  pocket,  saying  to^ 
a  by-stander,  "  I  always  do  this,  when  I  hear 
men  swear,  as  I  think  that  any  one  who  can  take 
God's  name  in  vain,  can  also  steal,  or  do  any 
thinsf  else  that  is  bad." 


AWFUL  EXAMPLE.  75 

God  lias  set  a  mark  upon  this  vice.  He  not 
unfrequently  punishes  it,  by  directly  answering 
the  prayer  that  is  profanely  uttered.  J.  H.  was 
a  notorious  swearer.  He  had  a  singular  habit  of 
calling  on  God  to  curse  his  eyes.  After  some 
years,  this  awful  imprecation  was  verified.  He 
was  afflicted  with  a  disease  in  his  eyes,  which 
terminated  in  total  blindness.  This  so  affected 
his  general  system,  that  he  gradually  sunk  under 
it,  and  went  to  give  up  his  account.  A  number 
of  similar  cases,  some  of  them  still  more  awful, 
you  will  find  in  the  tract  entitled,  "  The  Swearer'a 
Prayer." 

Playing  Truant. 

Playing  truant  when  sent  to  school,  is  almost 
always  the  means  of  getting  into  bad  company ; 
and  bad  company  leads  to  ruin.  A  boy  thirteen 
years  old,  was  brought  before  the  police  court  in 
Boston,  charged  with  stealing  a  gold  pen  from  a 
lawyer's  office.  He  had  been  in  the  habit  of 
coming  into  the  offices,  in  the  building,  and  selling 
apples.  The  gentleman  from  whom  he  stole  the 
pen  had  furnished  him  money  to  fill  his  basket ; 
and  he  returned  his  kindness  by  stealing  his  pen, 
which  was  worth  three  dollars.  His  mother  ap- 
peared before  the  court,  and  plead  earnestly  for 


76  TLAYING    TRUANT. 

her  boy,  saying  that  lie  was  a  good  boy  to  her, 
except  that  he  played  truant  from  school.  He 
then  got  into  the  company  of  a  gang  of  boys. 
who  peddle  apples,  —  a  thievish  set,  —  and  of 
them  he  also  learned  to  steal.  He  was  sent  to 
the  House  of  Reformation  ;  which  is  a  prison  for 
boys,  where  they  are  kept  at  work  and  study,  but 
not  allowed  their  liberty. 

Ruin  of  a  Deacon's  son. 

Several  years  ago,  a  young  man  about  twenty 
years  of  age,  filthy  in  his  appearance,  and  shab- 
bily dressed,  called  at  the  house  of  a  clergyman 
in  the  city  of  New  York.  His  countenance, 
though  haggard,  bore  the  marks  of  intelligence. 
The  young  man  said  he  had  been  at  his  church 
the  previous  evening,  and  was  desirous  of  having 
some  conversation  with  the  minister.  He  was 
requested  to  open  his  mind  freely.  He  said  he 
was  the  son  of  a  deacon  of  a  Congregational 
church  in  Connecticut.  His  father  was  a  man  of 
property  and  influence,  and  he  himself  had  al- 
ways moved  in  the  most  respectable  society.  He 
had  come  to  New  York  in  order  to  become  ac- 
quainted with  business,  and  prepare  himself  for 
an  active  and  useful  life.  But  he  soon  found 
himself  surrounded  with  new  temptations,  with- 


a  deacon's  SOX.  77 

out  the  restraining  influences  of  home  and  friends. 
He  fell  into  bad  company.  His  vicious  asso- 
ciates led  him  to  the  theatre,  and  when  his  pas- 
sions were  excited  by  what  he  saw,  and  stimula- 
ted by  intoxicating  liquors,  he  was  persuaded  to 
visit  places  of  infamy  and  crime.  These  indul- 
gences called  for  more  money  than  he  could  hon- 
estly obtain ;  but  his  appetites,  once  excited, 
could  not  be  easily  restrained  ;  and  he  had  re- 
course to  his  employer's  money  drawer  to  supply 
the  deficiency.  He  eased  his  conscience,  in  this 
act,  and  deceived  himself,  with  the  hope  of  repay 
ing  it  before  he  was  detected.  But  in  this  he 
was  mistaken.  He  was  detected,  tried,  found 
guilty,  and  sentenced  to  the  penitentiary  for  six 
months.  He  had  now  been  out  of  prison  a 
week,  during  which  time  he  had  been  wan- 
dering about  the  city,  ashamed  to  be  seen  or 
known.  He  had  come  to  ask  advjce.  The 
clergyman  advised  hirn  by  all  means  to  go  home 
to  his  father ;  assuring  him  that  it  was  his  only 
hope,  for  if  he  remained  in  the  city,  he  would 
fall  into  the  company  of  his  old  associates  and  be 
ruined.  "With  the  deepest  agony,  he  exclaimed, 
"  Plow  can  I  ever  return  to  my  father's  house  ? 
How  can  I  ever  meet  him  or  the  virtuous  com- 
panions of  my  youth  ?  No  !  No !  I  am  fallen  — 
disgraced  !  I  have  been  a  felon,  and  in  prison  I 
7* 


78  END    OF   BAD    COMPANT. 

No,  I  would  rather  die  a  vagabond  in  the  street, 
than  to  see  the  face  of  my  father,  or  the  faces  of 
the  young  people,  who  were  my  associates  in  the 
days  when  I  felt  myself  as  good  as  they."  He 
was  yet  unhumbled.  He  was  yet  unwilling,  like 
the  prodigal,  to  return  to  his  father's  house. 
However,  after  much  persuasion,  he  promised 
that  the  next  morning  he  would  set  off  for  home. 
But  he  had  not  the  moral  courage  to  fulfil  his 
purpose.  He  was  ashamed  to  arise  and  go  to  his 
father.  He  continued  to  roam  about  the  streets, 
and  was  again  detected  in  stealing. 

This  anecdote  shows  not  only  the  danger  of 
bad  company,  but  the  peril  of  young  men  who 
go  from  the  country  to  the  city  to  engage  in 
business.  They  had  better  remain  at  home, 
unless  their  principles  are  firmly  established  upon 
the  foundation  of  true  religion.  There  is  noth- 
ing to  be*  gained  in  the  city  that  is  worth  the 
exposure  of  morals  and  character. 

Bad  Books. 

Books  are  company ;  and  the  company  of  bad 
books  is  as  dangerous  as  the  company  of  bad 
boys  or  bad  men.  Goldsmith,  who  was  a  novel- 
writer  of  some  note,  writing  to  his  brother  about 
the   education  of  a   nephew,    says,  "Above   all 


TEMPERANCE.  79 

things  never  let  your  nephew  touch  a  novel  or  a 
romance?  An  opinion  given  in  such  a  manner 
must  have  been  an  honest  opinion.  And,  as  he 
knew  the  character  of  novels,  and  had  no  nice 
scruples  on  the  subject  of  religion,  his  opinion 
ouscht  to  have  sreat  weight. 


An  Example  for  boys. 

A  boy  in  London,  in  destitute  circumstances, 
was  put  out  as  an  apprentice  to  a  mechanic.  It 
is  the  business  of  the  youngest  apprentice  to  do 
all  the  errands  and  drudgery  of  the  establishment, 
and  frequently  of  his  master's  family  also.  He 
was  often  sent  by  the  workmen  and  older  ap- 
prentices, to  procure  intoxicating  liquors  for 
them  ;  of  which  all  of  them  partook,  except  him- 
self, because,  as  they  said,  it  did  them  good.  But 
because  he  refused  to  drink  he  was  made  an  ob- 
ject of  ridicule  among  them.  They  said  he  had 
not  sufficient  manhood  to  drink  rum.  But  he  had 
sufficient  manhood  to  refuse  to  drink  rum  ;  and 
it  requires  much  more  to  refuse  than  to  drink. 

Nothing  can  be  more  false  than  the  idea  that  it 
is  courageous  and  manly  to  fall  in  with  the  habits 
and  practices  of  those  with  whom  we  are  obliged 
to  associate.  It  is  a  sign  of  cowardice  rather 
than  of  courage.     The  sheep  is  the  most  timid  of 


80  TRUE    COURAGE. 

animals.  But  if  a  man  is  driving  a  flock  of 
sheep,  and  one  of  them  gets  frightened  and  turns 
out  of  the  way,  all  the  rest  will  follow,  no  matter 
if  it  is  over  the  railing  of  a  bridge  into  a  river. 
The  boy  that  drinks  or  swears  or  plays  truant,  or 
breaks  the  Sabbath,  because  his  companions  do, 
is  as  courageous  as  —  a  sheep  ! 

While  the  workmen  and  apprentices  were  rev- 
elling over  their  rum,  and  insulting  and  mis- 
using this  boy,  he  often  retired  and  vented  his 
grief  in  tears.  But  a  few  years  changed  the  as- 
pect of  things.  As  they  grew  up,  and  entered 
upon  the  world  for  themselves,  all  the  older  ap- 
prentices fell  into  habits  of  dissipation,  and  finally 
sunk  into  the  drunkard's  grave.  But  the  little 
boy,  at  whose  abstinence  they  used  to  scoff,  grew 
up  a  sober  and  respectable  man,  engaged  in  busi- 
ness for  himself,  and  a  few  years  ago,  was  worth 
a  hundred  thousand  dollars,  and  had  in  his  em- 
ploy one  hundred  and  ninety  men,  none  of  whom 
used  ardent  spirits.  All  this  came  from  his  hav- 
ing courage  to  say  no,  to  those  who  held  the 
poisoned  cup  to  his  lips. 

Poison. 

A  little  boy,  four  years  old,  wandered  from  his 
home,,  one  day,  in  the  town  of  Turin,  N.  Y.,  to  a 


POISON.  81 

field  where  some  men  were  at  work.  '  There  he 
found  a  bottle  of  spirits,  of  which  he  drank  free- 
ly. When  found,  he  was  lying  on  the  ground, 
unable  to  speak.  He  was  carried  home  to  his 
mother,  and  the  Doctor  was  sent  for ;  but  he 
could  do  nothing  for  the  poor  boy.  He  remain- 
ed stupid  till  evening,  and  then  died.  The  rum 
had  poisoned  him.  Not  a  great  while  before 
this,  his  father  was  drowned  in  a  fit  of  intoxica- 
tion.    "  Touch  not,  taste  not,  handle  not." 


"  Am  I  to  blame,  Mother  t " 

A  lad  in  Philadelphia,  some  years  ago,  joined 
the  Temperance  Society.  The  father  and 
mother,  who  were  what  are  called  moderate 
drinkers,  were  displeased  with  him.  The  boy 
said  nothing  for  sometime,  but  bore  patiently  the 
eludings  of  his  mother.  At  length,  he  undertook  to 
vindicate  his  conduct:  "  Am  I  too  blame,  mother? 
Sister  Mary  has  married  a  drunken  husband,  who 
abuses  her  every  day.  Sister  Susan's  husband 
was  intemperate,  and  has  gone  off,  and  left  her,, 
and  you  are  obliged  to  take  her  home,  and  take 
care  of  her  children.  Brother  James  comes 
home  drunk  almost  every  night.  And  because  I 
have  joined  the  cold  water  company,  and  you  are 


S2  TEMPERANCE. 

likely  to  have  one  sober  person  in  the  family,  you 
are  scolding  at  nie  !     Am  I  to  blame  ?  " 


How  it  happened. 

There  was  a  young  man  in  college,  one  of  the 
brightest,  who  was  greatly  beloved  for  his  per- 
sonal attractions,  frankness,  good  nature,  and  gen- 
erosity. But  he  was  occasionally  found  flushed 
with  wine,  and  then  he  was  turbulent  and  ungov- 
ernable. At  length,  in  one  of  these  fits  of  ex- 
citement, he  committed  a  misdemeanor  for  which 
he  was  expelled  from  college.  Soon  after  this, 
he  became  very  dissipated,  abandoned  his  studies, 
and  finally  became  a  sot.  People  wondered  how 
such  a  lovely  young  man  could  fall  into  such 
ruinous  courses.  A  young  lady,  conversing  about 
him,  said  she  remembered  that,  when  he  was  a 
little  boy,  just  beginning  to  study  Latin,  she  saw 
his  mother  bring  him  a  loaf  of  cal*e  and  a  glass 
of  wine  for  a  lunch.  She  then  thought  that  per- 
haps he  would  become  a  drunkard,  and  so  it  turn- 
ed out.     Beware  of  the  first  glass. 


83 


GOING    TO    THE    THEATRE. 


ILLIAAl  R.  was  a  young 
man  of  good  habits  —  a 
lovely  youth,  "  the  only  son 
of  his  mother,  and  she  was 
a  widow."  He  was  sent 
from  the  country,  where  he 
had  been  brought  up,  to  the 
city  of  New  York,  where 
he  was  employed  as  a  clerk. 
Hearing  much  of  the  Theatre,  and 
seeing  it  puffed  in  the  newspapers, 
^S"  ^e  thought  he  would  go  once,  just 
out  of  curiosity,  to  see  what  was  done 
there.  But,  he  was  so  fascinated  with 
what  he  heard  and  saw  there,  that  he 
went  again  ;  just  as  some  birds  are  so 
charmed  with  the  gaze  of  the  serpent,  as  to  run 
straight  into  his  mouth  !  There  William  fell  into 
evil  company,  who  enticed  him  away  to  the  haunts 
of  infamy.  Intoxicated  with  these  things,  he 
continued  to  frequent  the  theatre  until  the  ex- 
pense  was  more  than  his   earnings.     He   then 


* 

84  GOING    TO    THE    THEATRE. 

began  to  steal  money  from  his  employer.  He 
was  detected  and  fled.  After  some  time,  his 
friends,  hoping  he  had  learned  something  from 
experience,  sent  him  to  another  city.  For  a 
time  he  seemed  to  be  thoroughly  reformed.  But 
evil  habits  once  acquired  are  not  easily  overcome. 
He  soon  fell  into  the  same  round  of  folly  and 
sin,  till  he  lost  his  character  and  his  employment, 
and  in  his  despair,  committed  suicide  ! 

Here,  again,  my  readers  will  see  that  Total 
Abstinence  is  the  only  safe  rule.  This  boy's 
ruin  was  the  consequence  of  going  to  the  theatre 
just  once.  If  he  had  resisted  an  idle  curiosity 
in  the  beginning,  he  would  have  been  saved. 
There  are  some  things  that  we  ought  not  to  de- 
sire to  see.  Among  these,  are  the  things  that  are 
done  at  theatres  and  other  places  of  amusement 
and  pleasure,  which  abound  in  cities.  It  is  dan- 
gerous to  look  upon  them.  It  is  like  looking 
down  from  a  giddy  height  upon  a  rapid  current 
of  water.  It  turns  the  head,  the  foothold  is  en- 
dangered, and  the  life  put  in  jeopardy. 

The  Passion  for  Gaming. 

The  following  anecdote  shows  the  strength  of 
this  passion,  when  once  it  has  gained  the  ascen- 
dancy : 


GAMING.  85 

A  colored  man  employed  as  a  fireman  on  board 
a  steamboat,  between  Cincinnati  and  Now  Orleans, 
lost  all  Lis  money  at  play  with  his  companions. 
He  then  staked  his  clothing,  which  he  also  lost. 
Having  nothing  more,  he  laid  down  his  free  papers 
and  staked  himself.  Losing  this  time,  also,  he  was 
actually  sold  by  the  winner  to  a  slave  dealer. 

What  a  power  must  this  passion  have  over  a 
man,  when  he  will  play  at  the  hazard  of  his  own 
liberty,  which  most  men  esteem  dearer  than  life  ! 
Young  man,  if  you  once  contract  this  habit,  you 
will  have  no  power  to  restrain  it.  You  will 
gratify  the  passion  at  the  hazard  of  every  thing. 
My  mother  used  to  relate  an  anecdote  of  some 
young  men,  who  retired  to  a  garret  to  play  at 
cards,  where  they  would  not  be  seen.  There 
was  an  open  cask  of  powder  in  the  room,  and  they 
had  stuck  a  lighted  candle  into  the  powder,  which 
served  the  purpose  of  a  candlestick.  The  man 
at  whose  house  they  were,  coming  to  the  loft  for 
some  purpose,  observed  them  a  few  moments 
before  the  candle  had  burned  down  to  the  pow- 
der, and  creeping  softly  so  as  not  to  alarm  them, 
snatched  away  the  candle.  In  a  few  moments 
more  they  would  have  been  blown  to  atoms. 

The  only  security  against  gambling  is  similar 
to  that  against  intemperance :  Total  absti- 
nence from  games  of  chance.  If  you  never 
8 


Ob  GAMING. 

learn  any  play  that  can  be  used  in  gaming,  you 
will  be  safe  from  the  snare.  But  with  the  know- 
ledge of  such  games,  you  will  scarcely  escape  its 
seductions. 

Danger  of  Playing  for  amusement. 

There  was  a  family,  consisting  of  the  father 
and  mother,  two  sons,  and  one  daughter,  who 
lived  in  Tennessee.  The  father  and  mother  used 
to  play  cards  with  the  children  for  amusement. 
The  sons  went  to  college,  and  the  father's  busi- 
ness required  him  to  be  much  of  the  time  from 
home.  On  one  occasion,  while  the  sons  were  at 
home,  during  vacation,  the  father  wrote  a  letter 
requesting  the  eldest  son  to  bring  him  five  thou- 
sand dollars.  The  youug  man  was  accordingly 
despatched  with  the  money.  He  went  on  board 
a  steamboat,  where  he  met  a  company  of  gam- 
blers, in  the  garb  of  gentlemen,  who  professed  to 
be  only  playing  for  amusement.  To  this  he  had 
been  accustomed,  from  his  childhood,  at  his 
father's  house,  and  thought  no  harm  of  it.  He 
was  solicited  to  play,  and  consented.  After  play- 
ing a  few  moments,  they  agreed  to  bet  one  dollar 
on  the  game.  He  lost,  and  then  doubled  his  bet, 
and  went  on  so,  till  soon  he  had  lost  what  little 
money  he  had  about  him.     He  became  much  ex- 


ON    FOR    GAMING.  87y<\Y.. 


cited,  went  to  his  state-room  and  drew  out  a  large 
ige  of  bills,  and  returned  to  the  table,  where 
fery  .soon  he  had  lost  twelve  hundred  dollars. 
He  now  came  to  the  place  where  he  was  to  leave 
the  steamboat  and  go  to  his  father ;  but  he  was 
so  intoxicated  with  the  excitement  of  the  gaming 
table,  that  he  went  on.  He  played  on,  and  con- 
tinued to  lose.  Several  of  the  more  respectable 
passengers  tried  to  get  him  away.  But  the  pas- 
sion for  gaming  had  taken  such  possession  of  his 
heart,  that  he  was  held  to  the  spot,  till  his  pack- 
age of  five  thousand  dollars  was  all  in  the  hands 
of  three  hardened  gamblers.  Two  of  them 
afterwards  won  from  him  his  watch  and  his  dia- 
mond breast  pin,  and  left  him  without  money 
enough  to  buy  a  meal  of  victuals. 

About  ten  days  after  he  left,  his  mother  receiv- 
ed a  letter  from  his  father,  saying  that  he  had 
heard  nothing  from  him.  She  immediately  took 
her  younger  son  and  went  in  pursuit  of  him. 
But,  the  only  intelligence  they  could  gain  con- 
cerning him  was,  that  he  had  been  ruined  by  a 
company  of  gamblers.  The  father  immediately 
started  for  New-Orleans,  in  search  of  his  son, 
but  hearing  nothing  from  him,  he,  in  despair,  took 
to  drinking,  and  returned,  after  two  years'  ab- 
sence, —  '•  his  frame  worn  —  his  cheek  pale  —  his 
eyes  wild  and  fevered  —  his  lips  parched  —  his 


I 


88  A    RUINED    FAMILY. 

hopes  crushed  —  his  very  life  only  the  motion  of 
excitement  and  passion  —  his  very  soul  shattered 
—  his  property  mortgaged."  In  a  short  time  he 
went  again  in  pursuit  of  his  son,  but  returned 
home,  heart-broken,  and  died  of  delirium  tremens, 
the  drunkard's  disease.  The  daughter  and  the 
other  son,  both  became  maniacs.  Thus  was  a 
whole  family  ruined,  in  consequence  of  the  fool- 
ish habit  of  playing  cards  for  amusement.  If 
that  young  man  had  never  learned  to  play  cards, 
he  would,  in  all  probability,  have  gone  on  his 
way,  and  reached  his  father  in  safety,  with  the 
money.  And,  if  he  had  been  firmly  principled 
against  playing,  his  answer,  "  I  never  play  "  would 
have  stopped  all  solicitation.  I  travelled  on  those 
Western  waters,  when  I  was  a  young  man,  at  a 
time  when  gambling  was  carried  on  every  hour 
of  the  day,  and  almost  the  live-long  night ;  and 
yet  I  was  never  solicited  to  play.  And  why  not, 
as  well  as  this  young  man  ?  Because,  (1.)  I  did 
not  know  how  to  play  ;  (2.)  I  felt  a  great  aver- 
sion to  it,  and  did  not  hesitate  to  show  it ;  and 
(3.)  I  made  myself  known  as  a  religious  man. 
These  three  things  will  always  be  sufficient  to 
defend  a  young  man  against  the  most  wily  game- 
sters in  the  world. 

The  case  I  have  related,  is  only  one  among 
hundreds  that  might  be  stated,  in  which  the  ruin 


DEFENCE    AGAINST    GAMING.  89 

of  many  a  promising  young  man  has  been  accom- 
plished, by  alluring  him  to  play  cards  for  amuse- 
ment, and  then  gradually  leading  him  on  to  stake 
first  small  sums,  which  he  is  permitted  to  win, 
and  then  he  is  persuaded  to  go  on,  till  he  has  not 
a  farthing  left.  There  is  a  set  of  men,  in  all 
parts  of  the  country,  who  make  a  business  of 
gambling,  and  league  together  to  draw  in  unwary 
youth  and  strip  them  of  all  they  possess,  and  of 
more,  if  they  can  lay  their  hands  upon  money 
not  their  own. 

Beware,  then,  how  you  excite  a  passion  for 
gaming,  by  playing  for  amusement.  I  am  afraid 
of  all  games  ;  but,  especially,  all  games  of  chance. 
I  think  there  is  a  strong  tendency  in  them  all  to 
excite  a  passion  for  gaming,  which  will  not  be 
satisfied  without  something  more  stimulating  than 
mere  amusement.  If  I  see  a  boy  rolling  mar- 
bles, or  a  young  man  shuffling  cards,  I  think  he 
is  in  the  high  road  to  ruin.  Marbles  is  a  dirty 
play.  It  treads  on  the  heels  of  low  company 
and  gambling.  We  frequently  hear  boys  crying 
out,  with  all  the  braggardism  of  a  practiced  gam- 
bler, "I'll  bet  "  so  and  so.  But  all  betting  is 
gambling.  ''Touch  not,  taste  not,  handle 
not." 

8* 


90 


CHAPTER  V. 


INDUSTRY,    LABOR,    &  c  . 

ZZ$  ^J>^ViARLY  discipline,  in  laborious 

-  o^ffsS^  "TjJ    anc^  useful  occupations,  is  indis- 

*  pensable  to  the  formation  of  a 

good  character.     If    God  had 

designed  that  we  should  live  at 

ease,  without  exertion,  he  would 

have  furnished  every  thing  to 

our  hand,  without  any  effort  of 

own.     In  his  holy  word  he  has 

yht  us  the  necessity  of  helping 

selves,  requiring  us  to  labor  six 

s  for  one  of  rest,  and  ordaining 

that,  "  if  any  would  not  work,  neither 

should   he    eat."     The  same   lesson    he 

taught  an  untutored  Indian,  by  the  voice 

of  Nature. 


A  lesson  from  the  Birds  and  Fishes, 

Rev.  Mr.  Heckewelder,  a  Moravian  Mission- 
ary, remarked  to  an  Indian,  whom  he  saw  busily 
employed  fencing  his  cornfield,  that  he  must  be 


INDUSTRY.  91 

very  fond  of  working,  as  he  bad  never  seen  him 
idling  away  his  time  as  was  common  with  the 
Indians.  •'  My  friend,"  replied  the  Indian  "  the 
fishes  in  the  water,  and  the  birds  in  the  air 
have  taught  me  to  work.  When  I  was  a 
young  man,  I  loitered  about,  doing  nothing,  just 
like  the  other  Indians,  who  say  that  working  is 
only  for  whites  and  negroes,  but  that  the  Indians 
were  made  to  hunt  the  deer,  and  catch  the  beaver, 
otter,  and  other  animals.  But  one  day  while  I 
was  hunting,  I  came  to  the  banks  of  the  Susque- 
hannah.  and  sat  down  near  the  water's  edge  to 
rest  awhile.  There  I  was  forcibly  struck  at  see- 
ing with  what  industry  the  sun-fish  heaped  small 
stones  together  to  make  secure  places  for  their 
spawn  ;  and  all  this  labor  they  did  with  their 
mouth  and  body,  without  hands.  Presently  a 
little  bird,  not  far  from  me,  raised  a  song,  and 
while  I  was  looking  to  see  the  little  songster,  its 
mate,  with  as  much  grass  as  it  could  hold  in  its 
bill,  passed  close  by  me,  and  flew  into  the  bush, 
where  I  perceived  them,  both  together,  busily  em- 
ployed in  building  their  nest,  and  singing  as  their 
work  went  on.  I  entirely  forgot  my  hunting, 
to  contemplate  the  objects  that  were  before  me. 
I  saw  the  birds  in  the  air  and  the  fishes  in  the  wa- 
ter working  diligently  and  cheerfully,  and  all  this 
without  hands.     I  thought  it  was  strange,  and  1* 


92  AN  INDIANS'S  REFLECTIONS. 

became  lost  in  wonder.  I  looked  at  myself,  and 
saw  two  long  arms,  provided  with  hands  and  fin- 
gers, and  with  joints  that  might  be  opened  and 
shut  at  pleasure.  I  could,  when  I  pleased, 
take  up  any  thing  with  these  hands,  hold  it  fast, 
or  let  it  loose,  and  carry  it  along  with  me.  When 
I  walked,  I  observed  that  I  had  a  strong  body, 
capable  of  bearing  fatigue,  and  supported  by 
two  stout  legs,  with  which  I  could  climb  to  the 
top  of  the  highest  mountains,  and  descend  at 
pleasure  into  the  valleys. 

"And  is  it  possible,"  said  I,  "that  a  being  so 
wonderfully  formed  as  I  am,  was  created  to  live 
in  idleness  ;  while  the  birds,  which  have  no  hands, 
and  nothing  but  their  little  bills  to  help  them, 
work  wTith  cheerfulness,  and  without  being  told 
to  do  so  ?  Has  then  the  great  Creator  given  me 
all  these  limbs  for  no  purpose  ?  It  cannot  be  :  I 
will  try  to  go  to  work.  I  did  so,  and  went  away 
from  the  village  to  a  spot  of  good  land,  where  I 
built  a  cabin,  enclosed  ground,  sowed  corn,  and 
raised  cattle.  Ever  since  that  time,  I  have  enjoy- 
ed a  good  appetite  and  sound  sleep.  While  others 
spend  their  nights  in  dancing,  and  are  suffering 
with  hunger,  I  live  in  plenty.  I  keep  horses, 
cows,  hogs,  and  fowls.  I  am  happy.  See,  my 
friend,  the  birds  and  fishes  have  brought  me  to 
reflection,  and  taught  me  to  work ! " 


now  to  be  iiArpy.  93 

If  any  of  my  young  friends,  who  read  this 
book,  think  it  a  hardship  to  work,  I  hope  they 
will  go  into  the  fields,  and  like  this  untutored  In- 
dian, learn  lessons  from  the  creatures  whom  God 
has  made.  There  they  will  find  the  little  ants 
busy  in  rearing  their  habitation  ;  the  mole  in  rais- 
ing his  hill ;  the  birds  in  building  their  nests  ;  and 
the  little  busy  bee,  in  sucking  honey  from  every 
flower.  Yet  all  these  little  creatures  appear 
happy  and  contented  with  their  lot.  If  God 
made  them  to  be  happy,  as  we  suppose  he  did, 
why  did  he  not  make  them  to  live  an  idle,  inactive 
life?  Evidently  because  activity  is  necessary  to 
enjoyment.  If  you  would  be  happy,  then,  you 
must  be  active.  Laziness,  or  idleness,  will  cer- 
tainly make  you  discontented,  wretched,  and 
miserable. 

As  I  was  one  day  walking  in  one  ot'  those 
beautiful  avenues  that  lead  out  of  the  village  of 
Saratoga  Springs,  my  attention  was  arrested  by 
two  of  those  insects,  which  children  call  by  the 
homely  name  of  "  grand-father-lo?ig-legs."  They 
were  laboriously  occupied  in  rolling  a  round  ball, 
of  the  size  of  a  walnut,  covered  with  a  glutinous 
substance,  dried  hard  in  the  sun.  I  could  not  be 
so  cruel  as  to  break  it  in  pieces,  to  gratify  my 
curiosity ;  but  I  suppose  it  must  have  contained 
some  treasure  that  was  dear  to  them  —  probably 


94  ALL    THINGS    ACTIVE. 

their  eggs.  They  would  labor  and  tug,  with  their 
long  arms,  to  roll  it  up  an  ascent ;  and  if  it  rolled 
back  again,  they  would  patiently  return,  and  roll 
it  up,  showing  an  example  of  perseverance  well 
worthy  of  imitation. 

Thus  God  has  made  all  things  to  be  active. 
All  nature,  animate  and  inanimate,  calls  man  to 
labor.  If  old  ocean  did  not  ebb  and  flow,  and 
roll  its  waves,  it  would  stagnate,  and  become  so 
noxious  that  no  animal  could  live  on  the  face  of 
the  earth.  If  the  earth  did  not  pursue  its  labori- 
ous course  around  its  axis,  one  half  of  its  inhabi- 
tants would  be  shrouded  in  perpetual  night,  while 
the  other  half  would  be  scorched  to  death  with 
the  ever-accumulating  intensity  of  the  sun's  rays. 
Can  you  find  any  thing,  in  all  the  vast  creation  of 
God,  that  is  idle  ?  The  sluggard,  of  all  God's 
works,  stands  alone  —  idle!  He  resembles  the 
stagnant  pool,  whose  impure  waters,  filled  with 
the  loathsome  creatures,  and  all  manner  of  tilth, 
saturate  the  atmosphere  with  pestilential  vapors, 
and  spread  around  it  disease  and  death.  But,  the 
active,  industrious  man,  resembles  the  running 
brook,  whose  waters  are  kept  limpid  and  clear 
by  their  unceasing  flow. 


INDUSTRY.  95 


"  Business  first,  and  then  Pleasure." 

A  man  who  is  very  rich  now,  was  very  poor 
when  he  was  a  boy.  When  asked  how  he  got 
his  riches,  he  replied,  "  My  father  taught  me 
never  to  play  till  all  my  work  for  the  day  was 
finished,  and  never  to  spend  money  till  I  had 
earned  it.  If  I  had  but  half  an  hour's  work  to 
do  in  a  day.  I  must  do  that  the  first  thing,  and  in 
half  an  hour.  After  this  was  done,  I  was  allowed 
to  play  ;  and  I  could  then  play  with  much  more 
plea-ure  than  if  I  had  the  thought  of  an  unfin- 
ished task  before  my  mind.  I  early  formed  the 
habit  of  doing  every  thing  in  its  time,  and  it  soon 
became  perfectly  easy  to  do  so.  It  is  to  this 
habit  that  I  now  owe  my  prosperity."  Let  every 
boy  who  reads  this,  go  and  do  likewise,  and  he 
will  meet  a  similar  reward. 


Industry. 

A  gentleman  in  England  had  an  estate  which 
was  worth  about  a  thousand  dollars  a  year.  For 
a  while,  he  kept  his  farm  in  his  own  hands  ;  but 
at  length,  he  found  himself  so  much  in  debt  that 
he  was  obliged  to  sell  one  half  of  his  place,  to 


OG  INDUSTRY. 

pay  up.  The  rest,  lie  let  to  a  farmer  for  twenty- 
one  years.  Towards  the  end  of  that  time,  the 
fanner  on  coming  to  pay  his  rent,  asked  him 
whether  he  would  sell  his  farm.  The  gentleman 
was  surprised  that  the  farmer  should  be  able  to 
make  him  an  offer  for  his  place.  "  Pray  tell  me," 
said  he,  "  how  it  happens,  that,  while  I  could  not 
live  upon  twice  as  much  land,  for  which  I  paid 
no  rent,  yon  are  regularly  paying  me  five  hundred 
dollars  a  year  for  your  farm,  and  able  in  a  few 
years  to  purchase  it  ?  "  "  The  reason  is  plain," 
answered  the  farmer :  "  You  sat  still,  and  said 
'  Go'  I  got  up  and  said,  '  Come.''  You  lay  in 
bed,  and  enjoyed  your  ease.  I  rose  in  the  morn- 
ing, and  minded  my  business." 

This  anecdote  shows  the  folly  of  those  young 
men,  who  set  up  for  gentlemen,  and  despise  labor 
and  useful  employment.  Though  they  may  begin 
with  a  good  capital,  they  will  soon  run  down,  if 
they  depend  upon  others  to  do  their  business.  If 
they  have  nothing,  they  will  certainly  gain  noth- 
ing. Laziness,  poverty,  and  rags,  will  go  to 
gether. 


97 


CHAPTER  VI. 

TRUE     GREATNESS. 

True  Greatness  does  not  consist  in  feeling  above 
others. 

OOLS  think  themselves  great, 
in  proportion  to  the  show  they 
can  make  ;  but  it  would  take  a 
great  heap  of  copper  coins  to 
make  as  much  value  as  a  very 
little  piece  of  gold ;  and  an 
empty  tin  kettle  will  make 
more  sound  than  a  golden  ves- 
sel filled  with  the  choicest  delicacies. 
When  Mr.  Jefferson  was  President 
of  the  United  States,  he  was  passing 
a  stream  on  horseback,  in  Virginia, 
beggar  approaching  it  at  the  same 
IfX^L  time,  asked  him  to  help  him  over.  The 
President  let  him  get  behind  him  on 
the  horse  and  ride  over.  When  they  had 
got  over,  the  beggar  discovered  that  he  had  left 
his  bundle ;  and  Mr.  Jefferson  went  back  again 
and  brought  it  over.  This  was  true  greatness. 
A  man  can  never  be  too  great  to  do  a  kindness  to 
the  humblest  individual  in  the  world. 


98  TRUE    GREATNESS. 


True  Greatness  lies  not  in  being  too  'proud  to  wait 
on  one's  self. 

Chief  Justice  Marshall  was  in  the  habit  of 
going  to  market  himself,  and  carrying  home  his 
purchases.  Frequently  he  would  be  seen  re- 
turning at  sunrise,  with  poultry  in  one  hand  and 
vegetables  in  the  other.  On  one  of  these  occa- 
sions, a  fashionable  young  man  from  the  North, 
who  had  removed  to  Richmond,  was  swearing 
violently  because  he  could  find  no  one  to  carry 
home  his  turkey.  Marshall  stepped  up,  and  ask- 
ing him  where  he  lived,  said  "  That  is  my  way, 
and  I  will  take  it  for  you."  When  they  came  to 
his  house,  the  young  man  inquired,  "  What  shall 
I  pay  you  ?  "  "  O,  nothing,"  said  the  Chief  Jus- 
tice, "  you  are  welcome,  it  was  on  my  way,  and 
no  trouble."  "  Who  is  that  polite  old  gentleman, 
who  brought  home  my  turkey  for  me  ?  "  inquir- 
ed the  young  man  of  a  by-stander.  "That," 
replied  he,  "  is  John  Marshall,  Chief  Justice  of 
the  United  States."  "  Why  did  he  bring  home 
my  turkey?"  "To  give  you  a  severe  repri- 
mand, and  teach  you  to  attend  to  your  own  busi- 
ness," was  the  reply.  True  greatness  never  feels 
above  doing  any  thing  that  is  useful ;  but  espe- 
cially, the  truly  great  man  will  never  feel  above 


CHANCELLOR    KENT.  99 

helping  himself.  His  own  independence  of  char- 
acter depends  on  his  being  able  to  help  himself. 
Dr.  Franklin,  when  he  first  established  himself 
in  business,  in  Philadelphia,  wheeled  home  the 
paper  which  he  purchased  for  his  printing  office, 
upon  a  wheel-barrow,  with  his  own  hands. 

True    Greatness  does  not  make   a   man  difficult 
about  his  own  accommodations. 

At  a  time  when  the  court  was  sitting  in  Buf- 
falo, N.  Y.,  and  all  the  public  houses  were  full, 
there  came  to  the  principal  hotel  a  starched  up 
little  Frenchman,  and  called  for  lodgings.  He 
was  shown  into  a  small,  but  well-furnished  room, 
which  was  the  only  one  in  the  house  that  was  va- 
cant. He  thought  himself  insulted;  and  with 
much  warmth  said,  "  Me  gem'man  —  me  no  sleep 
here!"  A  little  while  afterwards  Chancellor 
Kent,  the  highest  judicial  officer  in  the  state, 
called  for  lodgings.  The  landlord  told  him  he 
was  full,  excepting  one  little  room,  which  he  did 
not  like  to  offer  to  such  a  man  as  he.  But  the 
Chancellor  wished  to  see  it ;  and  on  being  shown 
into  it,  said,  "0,  this  will  do  very  well  —  it  is  a 
fine  room."  "Which  do  you  think  was  the  grea-ter 
of  these  two  men  ?  A  small  mind  makes  much 
ado  about  little  things. 


100  DR.    FRANKLIN. 


True  Greatness  does  not  consist  in  being  in  the 
fashion. 

When  Dr.  Franklin  was  received  at  the 
French  Court  as  American  Minister,  he  felt  some 
scruples  of  conscience  about  complying  with  their 
fashions  of  dress.  "  He  hoped,"  he  said  to  the 
Minister,  "  that  as  he  was  a  very  plain  man,  and  rep- 
resented a  plain  republican  people,  the  king  would 
indulge  his  desire  to  appear  in  the  court  in  his 
usual  dress.  Independent  of  this,  the  season  of 
the  year,"  said  he,  "  renders  the  change  from  yarn 
stockings  to  fine  silk  somewhat  dangerous."  The 
French  Minister  made  him  a  bow,  but  said  that 
fashion  was  too  sacred  a  thing  for  him  to  meddle 
with,  but  he  would  do  him  the  honor  to  mention 
it  to  his  majesty.  The  king  smiled  and  returned 
word  that  Dr.  Franklin  was  at  liberty  to  appear 
at  court  in  any  dress  that  he  pleased.  In  spite 
of  that  delicate  respect  for  foreigners  for  which 
the  French  are  so  remarkable,  the  courtiers  could 
not  help  staring  at  first  at  Dr.  Franklin's  Quaker 
dress.  But  it  soon  appeared  as  though  he  had 
been  introduced  upon  this  splendid  theatre  only 
to  demonstrate  that  great  genius,  like  beauty, 
"  needs  not  the  aid  of  ornament." 


101 


CHAPTER   VII. 

ADVANTAGES    OF    HONESTY. 

Colbert. 

0  the  world  over,  and  you  will 
find  that  "  honesty  is  the  best 
policy."  Jean  Eaptiste  Col- 
bert was  born  at  Rheims,  in 
France,  in  the  year  1617,  of 
poor  parents.  When  a  boy,  he 
was  apprenticed  to  M.  Certain, 
a  woollen  draper.  Young  Col- 
bert was  very  fond  of  books,  and 
spent  his  leisure  in  reading.  He 
had  indeed  a  taste  above  his  station. 
But  his  mind  was  so  much  on  what 
he  read,  that  he  was  sometimes  absent- 
minded  and  forgetful.  M.  Certain,  who 
thought  of  nothing  but  of  selling  cloth, 
would  ridicule  him,  and  tell  him  he  would  never 
make  any  thing.  One  day  he  sent  him  and  the 
porter  with  four  rolls  of  cloth,  to  the  hotel  of  M. 
Cenani,  a  French  banker,  who  wished  to  buy 
9* 


102  THE    MISTAKE. 

hangings  for  a  country  house  which  he  had  pur- 
chased. The  pieces  were  marked  1,  2,  3,  and  4 ; 
and  as  Colbert  left  the  house,  M.  Certain  told 
him  that  No.  1  was  marked  three  crowns  a  yard  ; 
No.  2,  six  crowns  ;  No.  3,  eight  crowns  ;  and 
No.  4,  fifteeen  crowns.  The  banker  selected  No. 
3,  and  asked  the  young  man  how  much  it  was  a 
yard.  Colbert  replied,  "fifteen  crowns."  The 
porter  grinned,  but  seeing  the  mistake  was  on  the 
side  of  his  master  he  said  nothing.  There  were 
thirty  yards  in  the  piece,  and  the  money  was 
counted  out,  four  hundred  and  fifty  crowns. 

When  Colbert  returned,  M.  Certain  said,  "  you 
have  made  no  mistake,  I  hope."  "  I  don't  think 
I  have,"  replied  Colbert.  "  But  I  think  you 
have,"  said  the  porter.  "Do  you  think  so, 
Moline  ?  Do  you  think  so  ?  "  cried  the  old  man, 
throwing  down  the  cloth  and  examining  the 
tickets.  "  But,  indeed,  I  might  have  expected 
this;  the  little  rascal  could  not  do  otherwise. 
But  I  warn  you,  if  you  have  made  a  mistake, 
you  shall  go  to  M.  Cenani  to  ask  of  him  the 
surplus  money ;  and  if  he  refuses  to  give  it,  you 
shall  pay  it  out  of  your  wages.  No.  3  is  want- 
ing. No.  3  was  worth  —  it  was  worth  six 
crowns  ;  no,  eight  crowns.  I  am  quite  puzzled." 
"  Eight  crowns  !  Eight  crowns  !  are  you  sure 
of  that?"  cried  Colbert.     "Perhaps  you  would 


THE    CORRECTIONS.  103 

like  to  make  out  that  it  was  I  who  made  the 
mistake.  I  tell  you  No.  3,  was  worth  eight 
crowns.  I  am  half  dead  with  fear.  I  will  lay  a 
wager  that  he  sold  it  for  six."  "  On  the  contra- 
ry," replied  Colbert,  "  stupid  creature  that  I  am, 
I  sold  it  for  fifteen."  "  Fifteen  !  Fifteen  ! "  cried 
M.  Certain.  "  You  are  a  fine  boy,  a  good  boy, 
Baptiste.  You  will  one  day  be  an  honor  to  all 
your  family.  Fifteen  !  —  I  could  cry  with  joy ! 
Fifteen  crowns  for  a  piece  of  cloth  not  worth  six ! 
Two  hundred  and  ten  crowns  profit !  0  happy 
day  ! "  "  How,"  said  Colbert,  "  would  you  take 
advantage  ? "  "  0,  perhaps  you  want  to  go 
shares.  Certainly  I  agree  to  let  you  have  some- 
thing." 

"I  cannot  agree  to  any  such  thing,"  said  Col- 
bert. I  will  go  to  the  gentleman  I  have  treated  so 
badly,  and  beg  of  him  to  excuse  me,  and  return 
him  the  money  he  overpaid  me."  So  saying, 
he  bounded  out  of  the  door,  leaving  his  master 
in  a  rage  of  disappointment.  In  a  few  moments, 
he  was  at  the  hotel  of  M.  Cenani.  It  was  with 
great  difficulty  that  he  was  admitted  to  his  pre- 
sence, and  then  he  was  ordered  away.  But  he 
persisted  in  speaking ;  and  after  apologizing  for 
his  mistake,  he  returned  the  money.  The  banker 
asked  Hm  if  he  knew  that  he  was  no  judge  of 
cloth.     Colbert  assured  him  that  it  was  not  worth 


104  AN    HONEST   BOT. 

more  than  eight  crowns.  "  And  yon  might  ea  nlj 
have  kept  this  money  for  yourself/'  "  I  never 
thought  of  that,  sir,"  replied  the  young  man. 
"  But,  if  you  had  thought  of  it  ? "  inquired  the 
banker.  "  It  was  quite  impossible,  sir,  that  such 
an  idea  could  come  into  my  head.  I  should  as 
soon  have  thought  of  carrying  off  all  that  you 
have  here."  "  Suppose  I  should  make  you  a 
present  of  this  money  that  you  have  returned  to 
me  with  such  admirable  integrity  ?  "  "  What 
right  have  I  to  it  ?  And  why  should  you  give  it 
to  me  ?  I  would  not  take  it,  sir."  "  You  are  a 
fine  fellow  and  an  honest  fellow,"  said  the  banker, 
and  inquired  his  name.  The  conversation  was 
suddenly  broke  off  by  the  arrival  of  the  banker's 
carriage.  As  young  Colbert  went  out,  he  was 
seized  by  the  collar,  by  his  enraged  master,  who 
abused  him  in  the  most  frantic  manner,  and  dis- 
missed him  from  his  service. 

The  young  man  went  home ;  but  his  parents 
were  affrighted  to  see  him  at  that  time,  fearing 
some  disaster  had  happened  to  him.  After  hear- 
ing his  story,  however,  they  heartily  approved  his 
conduct,  and  rejoiced  that  they  had  such  a  son. 

It  was  but  a  little  while,  however,  before  M. 
Cenani  arrived,  and,  praising  the  nobleness  and 
integrity  of  the  boy,  proposed  to  his  parents  to 
take  him  to  Paris  and  put  him  in  his  banking 


ADVANTAGE  OF  BEING  HONEST.  105 

house,  where  he  might  make  a  fortune  ;  which 
was  readily  agreed  to.  Young  Colbert  soon 
found  himself  in  a  new  world.  But,  denying 
himself  the  brilliant  attractions  with  which  the 
city  abounded,  he  gave  himself  diligently  to  his 
business,  as  clerk  in  the  banking  house.  His 
diligence  and  faithfulness  gained  for  him  the 
esteem  of  his  employers.  He  soon  mastered  the 
business.  Xo  accounts  baffled  him.  And.  on 
arriving  at  manhood,  he  became  a  thorough 
financier.  The  most  important  duties  were  now 
entrusted  to  him  ;  and  he  soon  became  the  travel- 
ling agent  of  the  bank  ;  which  enabled  him  also 
to  gratify  his  taste  for  the  arts  and  sciences.  He 
made  the  tour  of  the  French  provinces,  making 
commerce  his  study,  and  devising  means  to  ren- 
der it  flourishing.  In  1648,  he  was  introduced 
at  Court,  where  his  rare  merit  and  conscientious- 
ness in  all  affairs  gained  him  great  esteem.  He 
was  created  Marquis  of  Croissy,  and  afterwards 
became  Prime  Minister.  In  this  capacity,  he 
was  eminently  useful  to  France.  He  improved 
the  roads ;  encouraged  trade  ;  founded  a  chamber 
of  commerce ;  colonized  India  and  Canada ; 
established  naval  schools  ;  built  ships  ;  introduced 
manufactures ;  encouraged  the  fine  arts.  One 
cannot  go  even  a  small  distance  in  Paris,  even  at 
this  day,  without  finding  a  trace  of  the  great  Co1- 


106  REWARDS    OF    HONESTY. 

bert.  The  Observatory,  the  beautiful  gardens  of 
the  Tuilleries  and  Rue  St.  Dennis,  the  Hotel  of 
Invalids,  and  many  other  things  of  like  nature 
which  adorn  and  do  honor  to  the  city,  owe  their 
existence  to  him.  He  also  raised  up  his  father's 
family  from  great  poverty  to  wealth  and  honor. 

Colbert's  first  step  to  distinction  was  an  act  of 
honor  and  honesty  which  deprived  him  of  the 
means  of  earning  his  daily  bread.  If  there  was 
ever  a  case,  which,  to  human  appearance,  would 
seem  to  contradict  the  old  proverb,  and  show  that 
honesty  was  not  the  best  policy,  one  would  think 
his  was  such  a  case.  But  the  event  proved  its 
truth.  And  to  this  single  trait  in  his  character 
may  be  traced  all  his  greatness.  His  honesty  and 
integrity  made  him  faithful  to  his  employers. 
This  raised  him  in  their  esteem,  and  contributed 
to  strengthen  and  confirm  this  trait  of  character. 
This  he  carried  into  public  life  ;  and  his  hon- 
esty there  led  him  to  regard  the  public  benefit 
as  paramount  to  private  interest.  The  whole  of 
this  story  may  be  found  in  Chambers'  Miscellany, 
published  by  Gould,  Kendall  and  Lincoln. 

Would  you  be  great  ?  Honesty  and  integrity 
of  character  lie  at  the  foundation  of  all  true 
greatness.  You  must  cultivate  sincerity,  honesty, 
and  fair  dealing  in  early  youth,  if  you  would  lay 
the  foundation  of  future  greatness. 


TRUE   COURAGE.  1€7 


Two  opposite  examples. 

Two  boys  were  passing  an  orchard  on  their 
way  from  school,  in  which  there  were  some  plum 
trees,  full  of  nice  Fruit.  "  Come,  Thomas,"  said 
Henry,  "let  us  jump  over  and  get  some  plums. 
Nobody  will  see  us.  "We  can  scud  along  through 
the  tall  corn,  and  come  out  on  the  other  side." 
Thomas  replied,  "  It  is  wrong.  I  don't  like  to 
try  it.  I  would  rather  not  have  the  plums  than 
steal  them,  and  I  will  run  along  home."  "  You 
are  a  coward."  said  Henry.  "  I  always  knew  you 
was  a  coward;  and  if  you  don't  want  any  plums, 
you  may  go  without  them.  But  I  shall  have 
some  very  quick."  Just  as  Henry  was  climbing 
the  wall,  the  owner  of  the  Held  rose  up  from  the 
other  side.  Henry  jumped  back  and  ran  off  as 
fast  as  his  legs  could  carry  him.  Thomas  had 
no  reason  to  be  afraid,  and  he  walked  along  as  if 
nothing  had  happened.  The  owner,  who  had 
heard  the  conversation  between  the  two  boys, 
then  asked  Thomas  to  step  over  and  help  him- 
self to  as  many  plums  as  he  wanted. 

This  story  teaches  two  lessons:  (1.)  It  shows 
the  advantages  of  hones'y.  An  honest  person  is 
not  afraid  to  look  others  in   the  face ;  and  lion- 


108  DISHONESTY. 

esty,  in  the  end,  always  turns  out  more  to  one's 
advantage  than  dishonesty.  (2.)  It  teaches 
wherein  true  courage  consists :  It  is,  in  being 
afraid  to  do  wrong.  Henry  called  Thomas  a 
coward,  because  he  was  afraid  to  do  wrong ;  but 
he  himself  sneaked  away  like  a  whipped  spaniel, 
the  moment  he  saw  any  danger.  Henry  was  the 
coward.  He  had  neither  the  courage  to  resist 
temptation  nor  to  face  danger. 

Fruits  of  dishonesty. 

A  young  man  from  the  State  of  Maine,  of  good 
abilities,  went  to  Washington  city,  where  he  was 
admitted  as  a  member  of  the  bar,  to  practice 
law,  with  fine  prospects.  He  was  respected  in 
society,  and  was  a  leader  in  the  choir,  in  one  of 
the  churches  in  the  city.  But,  in  an  evil  hour, 
he  discovered  that  there  was  a  considerable 
amount  of  money  in  the  Treasury,  which  had 
been  allowed  to  claimants,  but  which  had  never 
been  called  for,  and  was  not  likely  to  be.  The 
young  man,  thinking  he  should  not  be  likely  to  be 
detected,  forged  drafts,  and  obtained  money  to 
the  amount  of  several  thousand  dollars.  But,  it 
was  not  long  before  his  sin  found  him  out.  He 
was  detected,  found  guilty,  and  sent  to  the  state's 
prison. 


109 

CHAPTER  VIII. 

PURSUIT    OF    K  N  0  W  LEDGE, 

Section   I.  —  Reading. 


\ 


E  that  reads  to  be  amused,  will 
be  like  him  that  eats  to  grati- 
fy his  appetite  —  an  epicure. 
But  he  who  reads  to  obtain 
useful  information,  and  to  im- 
prove his  mind,  will  be  like 
him  who  eats  to  sustain  nature 
—  strong  and  healthy.  The 
\  former  will  be  satisiied  with  noth- 
\  ing  but  dainties  —  the  latter  will 
r^^v  prefer  plain  strong  food. 
"  larelP^w  Sir  William  Jones  rose  to  great 
fSV,  eminence.  "When  he  was  a  mere  child, 
;  e  was  very  inquisitive.  His  mother  was 
i  a  superior  woman  of  great  intelligence, 
and  he  would  apply  to  her  for  the  infor- 
tion  which  he  desired  ;  but  her  constant  reply 
was,  "  Read  and  you  will  know."  This  gave 
him  a  passion  for  books,  which  was  one  of  the 
principal  means  of  making  him  what  he  was. 
But,  it  is  not  every  one  who  reads  that  will  be- 
come wise. 

10 


110 


READING. 


Robert  Hall. 


This  great  man,  when  he  was  a  boy  about  six 
years  of  age,  was  sent  to  a  boarding  school,  where 
he  spent  the  week,  coming  home  Saturday  and 
returning  Monday.  "When  he  went  away  on 
Monday  morning,  he  would  take  with  him  two  or 
three  books  from  his  father's  library  to  read  at  the 
intervals  between  the  school  hours.  The  books 
he  selected,  were  not  those  of  mere  amusement, 
but  such  as  required  deep  and  serious  thought. 
Before  he  was  nine  years  old,  he  had  read  over 
and  over  again,  with  the  deepest  interest,  Edwards 
on  the  Affections,  Edwards  on  the  Will,  and  But- 
ler's Analogy. 


Ill 


Section  II. — Love  of  Learning  Encour- 
aged. 


HERE   are  many  young  per- 
sons, who  have  an  ardent  thirst 
for   knowledge,    and    a  strong 
pja  desire  to  obtain  an   education  ; 
wS  but  their  circumstances  in  life 
seem    to   forbid    the    attempt. 
There    are     many    examples, 
which  afford  them  encourage- 
ment to  make  the  attempt.     A  large 
proportion  of  the   men    who    have 
risen  to  the  highest  distinction,  have 
struggled  against  the  same  difficul- 
ties   ties  which  they  have  to  encounter  ;  and, 
S^c    when  they  see  what  has  been  done  by 
others,  they- will  perceive  that  it  can  be 
done  by  themselves. 


Sir  Isaac  Newton. 

"When  Sir  Isaac  Newton  was  a  boy  he  was 
employed  in  servile  labor.  Sometimes  he  was 
sent  to  open  the  gates  for  the  men  that  were 
driving  the  cattle  to  market.     At  other  times,  he 


112  BENJAMIN    WEST. 

carried  corn  to  market,  or  attended  the  sheep. 
One  day  his  uncle  found  him  in  a  hay-loft,  work- 
ing out  a  mathematical  problem,  and  he  was  sent 
to  school.  There  he  discovered  his  great  and 
various  talents.  At  the  age  of  eighteen  he  was 
sent  to  the  University  at  Cambridge,  England, 
where  he  soon  distinguished  himself. 

Benjamin  West. 

West,  the  celebrated  painter,  early  manifested 
a  genius  for  this  art.  His  first  attempt  was  made 
with  pens,  and  red  and  black  ink,  upon  a  portrait 
of  his  sister's  child,  lying  in  the  cradle.  For  a 
long  time  he  had  no  pencil.  Having  been  told 
that  they  were  made  of  camel's  hair,  he  pulled 
hairs  out  of  the  tail  of  a  cat,  of  which  he  made 
his  first  brush. 

Other  eminent  Persons. 

Dr.  Franklin  was  the  son  of  a  tallow-chandler, 
and  served  an  apprenticeship  to  a  printer  ;  Rev. 
Dr.  Scott,  author  of  the  Commentary,  was  em- 
ployed in  the  most  laborious  work  on  a  farm ; 
William  Gilford,  one  of  the  most  celebrated  lite- 
rary men  of  his  age,  was  an  apprentice  to  a  shoe- 
maker, and  wrought  out  his  problems  in  algebra  on 
a  piece  of  sole-leather,  with  the  point  of  an  awl. 


113 


Section  III.  —  Dislike  of  Study. 
LATIN    AND    LABOR. 

OHN  ADAMS,  the  second 
President  of  the  United  States, 
used  to  relate  the  following 
anecdote  : 

"  When  I  was  a  boy,  I  had 
to  study  the  Latin  grammar ; 
but  it  was  dull,  and  I  hated  it. 
My  father  was  anxious  to  send 
me  to  college,  and  therefore  I 
studied  the  grammar,  till  I  could 
bear  it  no  longer;  and  going  to 
my  father,  I  told  him  I  did  not 
study,  and  asked  for  some  other 
employment.  It  was  opposing  his 
wishes,  and  he  was  quick  in  his  an- 
swer. '  Well,  John,  if  Latin  grammar 
does  not  suit  you,  you  may  try  ditching  ;  perhaps 
that  will ;  my  meadow  yonder  needs  a  ditch,  aftd 
you  may  put  by  Latin  and  try  that.' 

';  This  seemed  a  delightful  change,  and  to  the 
meadow  I  went.  But  I  soon  found  ditching 
harder  than  Latin,  and  the  first  forenoon  was  the 
longest  I  ever  experienced.  That  day  I  ate  the 
bread  of  Labor,  and  glad  was  I  when  night  came 
10* 


114  JOHN   ADAMS. 

on.  That  night  I  made  some  comparison  between 
Latin  grammar  and  ditching,  but  said  not  a  word 
about  it.  I  dug  next  forenoon,  and  wanted  to 
return  to  Latin  at  dinner  ;  but  it  was  humiliating, 
and  I  could  not  do  it.  At  night,  toil  conquered 
pride ;  and  though  it  was  one  of  the  severest 
trials  I  ever  had  in  my  life,  I  told  my  father  that,. 
if  he  chose,  I  would  go  back  to  Latin  grammar. 
He  was  glad  of  it ;  and  if  I  have  since  gained  any 
distinction  it  has  been  owing  to  the  two  days 
labor  in  that  abominable  ditch." 

Boys  may  learn  several  important  lessons  from 
this  story.  It  shows  how  little  they  oftentimes 
appreciate  their  privileges.  Those  who  are  kept 
at  study  frequently  think  it  a  hardship  need- 
lessly imposed  on  them.  But  they  must  do  some- 
thing; and  if  set  to  ditching,  would  they  like  that 
any  better?  The  opportunity  of  pursuing  a  lib- 
eral course  of  study  is  what  few  enjoy ;  and  they 
are  ungrateful  who  drag  themselves  to  it  as  to 
an  intolerable  task.  You  may  also  learn  from 
this  anecdote,  how  much  better  your  parents  are 
qualified  to  judge  of  these  things  than  your- 
selves. If  John  Adams  had  continued  his  ditch- 
ing instead  of  his  Latin,  his  name  would  not 
probably  have  been  known  to  us.  But,  in  fol- 
lowing the  path  marked  out  by  his  judicious 
parent,  he  rose  to  the  highest  honors  which  the 
country  affords* 


115 


CHAPTER   IX. 

MISCELLANEOUS    SUBJECTS. 

Section  I.  —  Fickleness. 

Hunting   Squirrels. 

OHN  ALSOP  was  about  fif- 
teen years  old,  "when  his  father, 
who  had  just  moved  into  a 
new  settlement,  was  clearing 
land.  One  day  the  father  and 
a  neighbor  were  engaged  in 

O  CO 

building  a  Jog  fence ;  which 
was  made  of  the  trunks  of  the 
that  were  cleared  off  the  lands. 
First,  they  laid  the  fence  one  log 
high,  with  the  ends  of  each  length 
passing  a  little  way  by  each  other. 
Notches  were  cut  in  the  ends,  and  a 
block  was  laid  crosswise,  where  the 
ends  lapped,  and  then  another  tier  was 
laid  on  the  cross  pieces,  till  the  fence 
was  high  enough.  To  roll  up  the  top  logs,  they 
would  lay  long  poles,  called  skids,  one  end  on  iie 
top  of  the  logs,  and  the  other  on  the  ground,  and 


116  HUNTING    THE    SQUIRREL. 

roll  up  the  logs  on  these.  But,  as  the  logs  ivere 
very  heavy,  they  were  obliged  to  stop  several 
times  to  rest,  or  to  get  a  new  hold  ;  and  it  was 
John's  business,  when  they  stopped,  to  put  a  block 
the  under  side  of  the  log,  above  the  skids,  to  keep 
it  from  rolling  back.  Having  given  a  hard  lift,  and 
tugging  with  all  his  might,  the  father  called  out, 
"There,  Johnny,  put  under  your  block  quick." 
John  started  nimbly,  and  snatched  up  his  block, 
when  suddenly  the  loud  chirp  of  a  squirrel  struck 
his  ear.  Instantly,  down  went  his  block,  and  away 
he  ran  after  the  squirrel,  leaving  his  father  and 
the  other  man  to  hold  the  log  till  he  came  back. 
This  anecdote  gives  you  John's  character.  He 
was  too  fickle  to  follow  any  one  object  or  pursuit 
long  enough  to  accomplish  any  thing.  Thirty 
years  after  this,  a  gentleman  who  had  known  him 
in  his  youthful  days,  inquired  about  him  of  one  of 
his  neighbors,  who  related  this  anecdote,  and 
added,  "  he  has  been  running  after  squirrels  ever 
since."  He  never  was  steady  and  persevering 
in  pursuit  of  any  thing.  When  he  was  a  young 
man,  he  could  never  make  up  his  mind  decidedly 
what  employment  to  follow.  He  would  try  one, 
and  get  tired  of  it,  and  take  another  ;  but  follow- 
ed no  business  long  enough  to  get  well  acquainted 
with  it.  When  he  had  a  family,  and  found  it 
necessary  to  make   exertion,  he  was  busy  early 


HUNTING    SQUIRRELS.  117 

and  late,  but  to  little  purpose.  He  moved  from 
one  place  to  another ;  and  "  a  rolling  stone  gath- 
ers no  moss."  He  very  often  changed  his  em- 
ployment, and  by  that  means  lost  all  the  advan- 
tage of  past  experience.  Now,  he  was  a  farmer, 
then  a  trader,  then  a  post-rider,  then  a  deputy 
sheriff,  then  a  mechanic,  without  having  learned 
his  trade.  By  the  time  he  had  got  fairly  started  in 
a  new  business,  he  would  hear  or  think  of  some- 
thing else,  and  before  any  body  thought  of  it,  he 
would  change  his  business.  In  this  way  he  wast- 
ed his  money,  and  kept  his  family  poor,  and  neg- 
lected his  children's  education.  He  was  always 
hunting  the  squirrel. 

Now,  boys,  don't  hunt  the  squirrel.  Whatever 
you  begin,  stick  to  it  till  it  is  finished  —  done, 
and  well  done.  If  you  always  follow  this  rule 
faithfully,  you  cannot  fail  of  being  somebody  and 
doing  something.  But,  if  you  go  through  life 
hunting  the  squirrel,  when  you  die,  nobody  can 
tell  what  you  have  done,  and  the  world  will  be 
neither  wiser  nor  better  for  your  having  lived 
in  it. 


118 


Section  II.  —  Independence  of  Character. 


HERE  is  a  certain  kind  of 
Independence  of  Character, 
which  is  indispensable  to  suc- 
cess in  any  undertaking.  I  do 
not  mean  a  proud,  self-confi- 
dent spirit,  which  despises  ad- 
vice, and  makes  one  self-willed 
and  headstrong.  This  is  ob- 
stinacy. But  true  independence  is 
that  sort  of  self-confidence  and  reso- 
lution which  leads  one  to  go  for- 
ward in  what  he  has  to  do,  with 
decision  and  energy,  without  leaning 
\  fcvH  uPon  °tners-  Without  this,  a  man  will 
gain  to  himself  that  unenviable  distinc- 
)  •  tion  described  by  the  homely  but  expres- 
sive term  shiftless.  The  following  description, 
from  Mrs.  S.  C.  Hall's  "  Sketches  of  Irish  Charac- 
ter" *  furnishes  an  admirable  illustration  of  the 
results  of  a  want  of  independence  of  character  :  — 
"  Shane  Thurlough,  '  as  dacent  a  boy,'  and 
Shane's  wife,  as  'clane-skinned  a  girl,'  as  any  in 

*  See  Frontispiece. 

7 


DEPENDING  ON  OTHERS.  119 

the  world.  There  is  Shane,  an  active,  handsome 
looking  fellow,  leaning  over  the  half-door  of  his 
cottage,  kicking  a  hole  in  the  wall  with  his  brogue, 
and  picking  up  all  the  large  gravel  within  his 
reach,  to  pelt  the  ducks  with.  Let  us  speak  to 
him.  '  Good  morning  Shane.'  '  Och  !  the  bright 
bames  of  heaven  on  ye  every  day !  and  kindly 
welcome,  my  lady;  and  won't  ye  step  in  and 
rest  —  its  powerful  hot,  and  a  beautiful  summer, 
sure,  —  the  Lord  be  praised  ! '  '  Thank  you, 
Shane.  I  thought  you  were  going  to  cut  the 
hay-field  to-day ;  if  a  heavy  shower  comes,  it 
will  be  spoiled ;  it  has  been  fit  for  the  scythe 
these  two  days.'  '  Sure,  it's  all  owing  to  that 
thief  o'  the  world,  Tom  Parrel,  my  lady.  Did  n't 
he  promise  me  the  loan  of  his  scythe  ;  and  by 
the  same  token  I  was  to  pay  him  for  it ;  and 
depinding  on  that,  I  did  n't  buy  one,  which  I  have 
been  threatening  to  do  for  the  last  two  years/ 
'  But  why  don't  you  go  to  Carrick  and  purchase 
one  ? '  *  To  Carrick.  Och,  'tis  a  good  step  to 
Carrick,  and  my  toes  are  on  the  ground,  (saving 
your  presence,)  for  I  depinded  on  Tim  Jarvis  to 
tell  Andy  Cappler,  the  brogue-maker,  to  do  my 
shoes ;  and,  bad  luck  to  him,  the  spalpeen,  he 
forgot  it'  'Where's  your  pretty  wife,  Shane?' 
*  She  's  in  all  the  wo  o*  the  world,  ma'am,  dear. 
And  the  blame  of  it  on  me,  though  I  'm 


120  DEPENDING    ON    OTHERS. 

not  in  the  fault  this  time,  any  how.  The  child's 
taken  the  small  pox,  and  she  depinded  on  me  to 
tell  the  doctor  to  cut  it  for  the  cow-pox,  and  I 

rinded  on  Kitty  Cackle,  the  limmer,  to  tell  the 
»r's  own  man,  and  thought  she  would  not 
forget  it,  becase  the  boy's  her  bachelor  ;  but  out 
o'  sight  out  o'  mind  —  the  never  a  word  she  tould 
him  about  it,  and  the  babby  's  got  it  nataral,  and 
the  woman's  in  heart  trouble,  (to  say  nothing  o* 
myself;)  and  its  the  first  and  all.' 

'  I  am  very  sorry,  indeed,  for  you  have  got  a 
much  better  wife  than  most  men  ! '  '  That's  a  true 
word,  my  lady,  only  she's  fidgety-like  some- 
times, and  says  I  don't  hit  the  nail  on  the  head 
quick  enough ;  and  she  takes  a  dale  more  trouble 
than  she  need  about  mony  a  thing.' 

i  I  do  not  think  I  ever  saw  Ellen's  wheel  with- 
out flax  before,  Shane?'  'Bad  'cess  to  the 
wheel !  —  I  got  it  this  morning  about  that  too.  I 
depinded  on  John  "Williams  to  bring  the  flax 
from  O'Flaharty's  this  day  week,  and  he  forgot 
it ;  and  she  says  I  ought  to  have  brought  it  my- 
self, and  I  close  to  the  spot.  But  where  's  the 
good  ?  says  I ;  sure,  he  '11  bring  it  next  time/ 

' 1  suppose,  Shane,  you  will  soon  move  into  the 
new  cottage  at  Churn  Hill  ?  I  passed  it  to-day,, 
and  it  looked  so  cheerful;  and  when  you  get 
there,  you  must  take  Ellen's  advice,  and  deyind 


DEPENDING  OX  OTIIERS.  121 

solely  on  yourself.'  '  Och !  ma'am  dear,  don't 
mention  it ;  sure  it's  that  makes  me  so  down  in 
the  mouth  this  very  minit.  Sure  I  saw  that  born 
blackguard,  Jack  Waddy,  and  he  comes  in  here, 
quite  innocent-like  —  'Shane,  you've  an  eye 
to  squire's  new  lodge,'  says  he.  '  Maybe  I  have,' 
says  I.  '  I'm  yer  man,'  says  he.  '  How  so,' 
says  I.  '  Sure  I'm  as  good  as  married  to  my 
lady's  maid,'  said  he ;  '  and  I'll  spake  to  the 
squire  for  you  my  own  self.'  '  The  blessing 
be  about  you,'  says  I,  quite  grateful  —  and  we 
took  a  strong  cup  on  the  strength  of  it  —  and 
depi tiding  on  him,  I  thought  all  safe ;  and 
what  d'ye  think,  my  lady  ?  Why,  himself  stalks 
into  the  place  —  talked  the  squire  over,  to  be 
sure — and  without  so  much  as  "by  your  lave," 
sates  himself  and  his  new  wife  on  the  lase  in  the 
house  ;  and  I  may  go  whistle.'  '  It  was  a  great 
pity,  Shane,  that  you  did  not  go  yourself  to  Mr. 
Churn.'  '  That's  a  true  word  for  you.  ma'am 
dear ;  but  it's  hard  if  a  poor  man  can't  have  a 
frind  to    depind  on.' " 

If  you  want  any  thing  well  done,  you  must  see 
to  it  yourself.  If  you  want  it  half  done,  leave 
it  to  servants.  If  you  want  it  neglected,  impose 
it  upon  your  friend,  to  save  yourself  the  trouble. 


11 


122 


Section  III.  —  Contentment. 


HE   true   secret  of  happiness 
lies   in  a  contented  mind.     If 
we  would  be  happy,  we  must 
be  satisfied  with  our  lot  as  it  is. 
There  is  no  condition  in  which 
there  is  not  something  unplea- 
sant.    If  we  seek  for  perfec- 
tion, we  may  roam    the  wide 
Id  over,  and  never  find  it;  but; 
e  learn  to  bear  patiently  what 
cannot  help,  almost  any  situation 
ife   will   be  tolerable.      Every 
ever,  is  disposed  to   think  his 
troubles  the  worst  of  all.     The  follow- 
ing story  shows  that  no  situation  is  ex- 
empt from  trouble. 


The  old  black  sheep. 

A  gentleman  in  England  was  passing  by  where 
a  large  flock  of  sheep  were  feeding  ;  and  seeing 
the  shepherd  sitting  by  the  road-side,  preparing 


CONTENTMENT.  123 

to  eat  his  dinner,  lie  stopped  his  horse,  and  be- 
gan to  converse  with  him.  "  Well,  shepherd," 
he  said,  "  you  look  cheerful  and  contented,  and  I 
dare  say,  have  very  few  cares  to  vex  you.  I, 
who  am  a  man  of  large  property,  cannot  but  look 
at  such  men  as  you  Avith  a  kind  of  envy." 
"  Why,  sir,"  replied  the  shepherd,  "  'tis  true,  I 
have  not  trouble  like  yours  ;  and  I  could  do  well 
enough,  was  it  not  for  that  Mack  ewe  that  you  see 
yonder  among  my  flock.  I  have  often  begged 
my  master  to  kill  or  sell  her ;  but  he  won't, 
though  she  is  the  plague  of  my  life  ;  for  no  soon- 
er do  I  sit  down  at  my  book  or  take  up  my  wal- 
let to  get  my  dinner,  but  away  she  sets  otf  over 
the  down,  and  the  rest  follow  her  ;  so  that  I  have 
many  a  weary  step  after  them.  There  !  you  see" 
she's  off,  and  they  are  all  after  her !  "  "  Ah, 
my  friend,"  said  the  gentleman,  "  I  see  every 
man  has  a  black  ewe  in  his  flock,  to  plague  him, 
as  well  as  I." 

Hunting  after  contentment. 

A  man  had  a  number  of  houses,  and  would 
move  from  one  to  another,  because  he  could  be 
contented  but  a  little  while  in  a  place.  A  person 
asked  him  why  he  moved  so  often,  and  he  said  he 
was  hunting  after  contentment.  But  content  is 
never  found  by  seeking. 


124 


CHAPTER  X. 

KELIGION. 
Section  I.  —  Religious  Knowledge. 


THE    WILL. 

,^x^fp^>--^  NOWLEDGE  is  acquired  not 
only  by  reading,  but  by  think- 
ing of  what  we  read. 

A  minister  in  Ireland  met  a 

boy  going  to  school,  and  asked 

him  what  book  it  was  which 

he  had  under  his  arm.     "  It  is 

a   will,    sir,"     said    the    boy. 

What  will  ?  "  inquired  the  minister. 

The  last  will  and  testament  that 

>fr^v?^.  Jesus  Christ  left  to  me,  and  to  all 

Vw*  ^  wno  desu*e  t0   oDtam  a  title  in  the 

^_    property  therein  bequeathed."     "What 

/:')P$\  cuc^  Christ  leave  Jou  m  tnat  wiU  ? " 
yj_%i  "  A  kingdom,  sir."  "  Where  does  that 
kingdom  lie  ?  "  "  It  is  the  kingdom  of 
heaven,  sir."  "  And  do  you  expect  to  reign  as  a 
king  there  ? "  "  Yes,  sir ;  as  joint-heir  with 
Christ."     "  And  will  not  every  person  get  there 


RELIGIOUS    KNOWLEDGE.  125 

as  well  as  you  ?  "  "  No,  sir;  none  can  get  there 
but  those  who  found  their  title  to  that  kingdom 
upon  the  ground  of  the  will."  This  boy  was  not 
only  a  reader  but  a  thinker.  The  minister  told 
him  to  take  care  of  a  book  of  such  value,  and  to 
mind  the  provisions  of  the  will. 

A  Little  Reasoner. 

A  little  boy  asked  his  mother  how  many  gods 
there  were.  A  younger  brother  answered, 
"  Why,  one  to  be  sure."  "  But  how  do  you  know 
that  ?  "  inquired  the  other.  "  Because,"  answered 
the  younger,  "  God  fills  every  place  so  that 
there  is  no  room  for  any  other." 

A  Wise  Answer. 

A  boy  six  years  old  was  offered  an  orange,  if 
he  would  tell  where  God  was.  "  Tell  me,"  said 
the  boy,  "  where  he  is  not,  and  I  will  give  you 
two." 

A  Bad  Bargain. 

A  Sabbath  School  teacher  was  talking  to  his 

class  about  that  passage  in  Proverbs,  which  says, 

"  Buy  the  truth  and  sell  it  not."     "  He  who  buys 

the  truth,"  said  he,  "  makes  a  good  bargain.     Can 

11* 


126  FAITH. 

any  of  you  recollect  any  instance  of  a  bad  bar- 
gain, mentioned  in  Scripture  ?  "  "I  do,"  replied 
one  of  liis  scholars  :  —  "  Esau  made  a  bad  bar- 
gain, when  he  sold  his  birth-right  for  a  mess  of 
pottage."  Another  said,  "  Judas  made  a  bad  bar- 
gain, when  he  sold  his  Lord  for  thirty  pieces  of 
silver."  A  third  observed,  "  Our  Lord  tells  us 
that  he  makes  a  bad  bargain,  who,  to  gain  the 
whole  world,  loses  his  own  soul."  Alas  !  how 
many  such  bad  bargains  are  made  every  day  ! 

Simple  Faith. 

A  missionary  in  Africa  asked  a  little  boy  if  he 
was  a  sinner.  The  boy  replied  by  asking  if  h'e 
knew  any  one  who  was  not.  The  missionary 
then  asked  him  who  could  save  him  from  his  sins. 
He  replied,  "  Christ."  "  What  has  Christ  done 
to  save  sinners  ?  "  "  He  has  died  on  the  cross." 
"  Do  you  believe  Jesus  Christ  will  save  you  ?  " 
"  Yes."  "  Why  do  you  believe  it  ?  "  "  I  feel  it ; 
and  not  only  so,  but  I  consider  that,  since  he  has 
died,  and  sent  his  servants  the  missionaries  from 
such  a  far  country  to  publish  salvation,  it  would 
be  very  strange  if,  after  all,  he  should  reject  a  sin- 
ner." It  would  be  so  indeed,  with  respect  to  all 
that  come  to  Him ;  for  he  has  said,  "  Him  that 
cometh  to  me,  I  will  in  no  wise  cast  out." 


PROOF  THAT  THERE  15  A  GOD.      127 


Proof  that  there  is  a  God. 

A  converted  Greenlander,  conversing  with  a 
missionary  concerning  his  former  state,  said  that, 
before  he  had  ever  heard  about  God  or  Jesus 
Christ,  he  used  to  have  such  reflections  as  these : 
A  boat  does  not  grow  into  existence  of  itself,  but 
must  be  made  by  the  labor  and  ingenuity  of  man. 
But  the  meanest  bird  has  far  more  skill  displayed 
in  its  structure  than  the  best  boat,  and  no  man 
can  make  a  bird.  But  there  is  far  more  art 
shown  in  the  formation  of  man  than  in  any  other 
creature.  YTho  was  it  that  made  him  ?  I 
thought  perhaps  he  proceeded  from  his  parents, 
and  they  from  their  parents  ;  but  some  must  have 
been  the  first  parents  —  whence  did  they  come  ? 
Common  report  informs  me  that  they  grew  out 
of  the  earth ;  but  if  so,  why  do  not  men  now 
grow  out  of  the  earth  ?  And  from  whence  did 
this  same  earth,  the  sea,  the  sun,  the  moon,  and 
the  stars,  arise  into  existence  ?  Certainly,  there 
must  be  some  Being,  who  made  all  these  things 
—  a  Being  that  always  was,  and  can  never  cease 
to  be.  He  must  be  inexpressibly  more  mighty, 
knowing,  and  wise,  than  the  wisest  man.  He 
must  be  very  good  too  ;  for  every  thing  that  is 


128      PROOF  THAT  THERE  IS  A  GOD. 

made  is  good,  useful,  and  necessary  for  us.  Ah ! 
did  I  but  know  him,  how  would  I  love  him  and 
honor  him  !  But  who  has  seen  him  ?  "Who  has 
conversed  with  him  ?  " 

This  poor  heathen,  groping  in  the  dark,  was 
led  to  the  same  train  of  reasoning  to  prove  the 
existence  of  God  that  is  used  by  the  learned 
Christian  philosopher  ;  thus  proving  the  truth  of 
that  passage  in  Rom.  i.  20:  —  "The  invisible 
things  of  God,  from  the  creation  of  the  world 
are  clearly  seen,  being  understood  by  the  things 
that  are  made,  even  his  eternal  power  and  God- 
head." 

How  to  prove  the  Bible  true. 

At  one  of  the  South  Sea  Islands,  which  had 
been  converted  from  heathenism  by  the  labors  of 
the  English  Missionaries,  they  were  holding  the 
annual  meeting  of  their  Missionary  Society.  A 
British  vessel  arrived,  and  the  officers  and  crew 
attended  the  meeting.  A  native  took  the  chair, 
and  native  speakers  addressed  the  meeting,  with 
great  effect.  Every  thing  was  done  in  good  or- 
der ;  and  the  speeches  were  interpreted  by  the 
missionaries  to  the  Englishmen  present  from  the 
ship.  But  some  of  them  said  the  natives  were 
mere  parrots,  and  only  repeated  what  the  mis- 


HOW  TO  PROVE  THE  BIBLE  TRUE.  129 

sionaries  had  taught  them.     Others  said  that  was 

impossible.  After  a  warm  dispute,  they  agreed 
to  submit  it  to  Mr.  Williams,  the  missionary; 
who  declined  deciding  the  question,  but  told  them 
if  they  would  visit  him  in  the  afternoon,  he  would 
collect  ten  or  twelve  natives,  whom  they  might 
ask  any  questions  they  pleased.  They  came,  and 
about  fifteen  natives  were  present,  but  without 
knowing  the  object  of  the  meeting. 

The  first  question  asked  was,  "  Do  you  believe 
the  Bible  to  be  the  word  of  God  ?  "  They  were 
startled.  They  had  never  heard  such  a  question 
started  before.  A  doubt  had  never  entered  their 
minds.  After  a  moment's  pause,  one  of  them  re- 
plied. "  Most  certainly  we  do  ;  undoubtedly  we  do." 
'*  Why  do  you  believe  it  ?  "  they  were  again  asked. 
u  Can  you  give  any  reason  for  believing  the  Bible 
to  be  the  word  of  God  ?  "  He  answered  :  "  Why, 
look  at  the  power  with  which  it  has  been  attended, 
in  the  utter  overthrow  of  all  that  we  have  been 
addicted  to  from  time  immemorial.  What  else 
could  have  abolished  that  system  of  idolatry, 
which  had  so  long  prevailed  among  us  ?  No  hu- 
man arguments  could  have  induced  us  to  abandon 
that  false  system." 

The  same  questions  were  put  to  another,  who 
replied,  "  I  believe  the  Bible  to  be  the  word  of 
God,  on  account  of  the  pure  system  of  religion 


130  PROOF  OF  THE  BIBLE. 

which  it  contains.  We  had  a  system  of  religion 
before  ;  but  look  how  dark  and  black  that  system 
was  compared  with  the  bright  system  of  salva- 
tion revealed  in  the  word  of  God !  Here  we 
learn1  that  we  are  sinners,  and  that  God  gave  Je- 
sus Christ  to  die  for  us  ;  and  by  that  goodness 
salvation  is  given  to  us.  Now,  what  but  the  wis- 
dom of  God  could  have  produced  such  a  system 
as  this  presented  to  us  in  the  word  of  God  ? 
And  this  doctrine  leads  to  purity." 

Another  made  the  following  singular  reply, 
which  is  worthy  of  a  learned  philosopher  :  "  When 
I  look  at  myself,  I  find  I  have  got  hinges  all  over 
my  body.  I  have  hinges  to  my  legs,  hinges  to  my 
jaws,  hinges  to  my  feet.  If  I  want  to  take  hold 
of  any  thing,  there  are  hinges  to  my  hands  to  do 
it  with.  If  my  heart  thinks,  and  I  want  to  speak, 
I  have  got  hinges  to  my  jaws.  If  I  want  to 
walk,  I  have  hinges  to  my  feet.  Now  here  is 
wisdom,  in  adapting  my  body  to  the  various  func- 
tions which  it  has  to  discharge.  And  I  find  that 
the  wisdom  which  made  the  Bible  exactly  fits 
with  this  wisdom  which  has  made  my  body  ;  con- 
sequently I  believe  the  Bible  to  be  the  word  of 
God." 

The  argument,  in  this  last  answer,  is  the  same 
as  that  which  proves  the  existence  of  God :  the 
perfect  adaptation  of  all  the  works  of  nature  to 


PROOF  OF  THE  BIBLE.  131 

their  design,  shows  them  to  have  been  the  work 
of  a  Supreme  Intelligence.  The  perfect  adapta- 
tion of  the  Bible  to  the  condition,  wants,  and 
necessities  of  man,  proves  it  to  be  of  divine  ori- 
gin. The  Bible  just  suits  the  design  for  which 
it  professes  to  have  been  given.  It  giv<  s 
just  that  information  and  instruction,  which  we 
should  expect  a  revelation  from  heaven  to  give. 
It  gives  a  rational  account  of  the  origin  of  all 
things  ;  of  the  object  of  man's  existence,  and  of  his 
relations  and  duties  to  God.  It  explains  how 
man  came  to  be  in  his  present  fallen,  wretched 
condition,  and  makes  provision  for  his  restoration 
to  the  favor  of  God.  It  provides  for  a  radical 
reformation  of  character  ;  gives  a  perfect  code 
of  morals,  and  takes  hold  on  the  heart,  and 
inspires  a  devotional  spirit.  Human  wisdom 
could  not  have  produced  such  a  book  ;  but  if  it 
could,  good  men  would  not  have  been  guilty  of 
imposing  a  work  of  their  own  upon  mankind,  as  a 
revelation  from  heaven  ;  and  bad  men  would  not 
have  made  a  book  to  condemn  themselves,  as  the 
Bible  condemns  all  wickedness.  We  must,  then, 
conclude,  that  the  Bible  is  a  divine  book. 


^$mm 


132 


Section  II. — The  Sabbath. 


Nothing  lost  by  keeping  the  Sabbath. 


<3kJJ^  PIOUS  sailor,  on  board  the 
steamboat  Helen  McGreggor, 
in  1830,  was  ordered  by  the 
Captain  to  assist  in  handling 
freight  on  the  Sabbath  ;  which 
he  objected  to  do,  because  he 
wished  to  keep  the  Sabbath. 
"  We  have  no  Sabbaths  here 
the  West,"  the  Captain  replied. 
Very  well,"  said  the  sailor,  "  wher- 
-er  I  am,  I  am  determined  to  keep 
the  Sabbath."  After  a  few  more 
the  Captain  settled  with  him,  and 
the  boat.  He  was  soon  offered 
wages,  if  he  would  come  back  ; 
but  he  refused.  In  a  few  days,  he  ship- 
ped at  New  Orleans  for  Europe.  The  first 
newspaper  he  took  up  on  his  arrival  contained 
an  account  of  the  terrible  disaster  which  hap- 
pened to  this  boat  soon  after  lie  left  it.  On  the 
morning  of  the    24th  of  February,    1830,   she 


GEORGE   III.  133 

burst  her  boiler  at  Memphis,  Term.,  and  nearly 
one  hundred  lives  were  lost.  This  dreadful  dis- 
aster he  had  escaped,  by  adhering,  at  all  hazards, 
to  his  determination,  wherever  he  was,  to  keep 
the   Sabbath. 

AVhen  George  III.  was  repairing  his  palace,  he 
found  among  the  workmen  a  pious  man,  with 
whom  he  often  held  serious  conversations.  One 
Monday  morning,  when  the  king  went  to  view 
the  works,  this  man  was  missing.  He  inquired 
the  reason.  At  first,  the  other  workmen  were 
unwilling  to  tell.  But  the  king  insisted  on 
knowing ;  when  they  confessed  that  they  had  re- 
turned Sabbath  morning,  to  complete  a  piece  of 
work  which  they  could  not  finish  on  Saturday, 
and  that  this  man  had  been  turned  out  of  his 
employment  because  be  refused  to  come.  "  Call 
him  back  immediately,"  said  the  king.  "  The 
man  who  refused  doing  his  ordinary  work  on  the 
Lord's  day  is  the  man  for  me.  Let  him  be  sent 
for."  He  was  restored  to  his  place ;  and  always 
afterwards,  the  king  showed  him  particular  favor. 
Here  was  a  strong  temptation  to  break  the  Sab- 
bath, for  the  man's  employment  depended  on  it. 
But  he  found  it  both  safe  and  profitable  to  keep 
the  Sabbath. 

12 


134.  THE   SAEBATli. 


A  wise  answer. 


A  wicked  man  said  to  his  son,  who  attended 
the  Sabbath  School,  "  carry  this  parcel  to  such  a 
place."  "  It  is  the  Sabbath,"  said  the  boy. 
"  Put  it  in  your  pocket,"  said  the  father.  "  God 
can  see  into  my  pocket,"  the  little  boy  answered. 

Danger  of  breaking  the  Sabbath. 

It  is  believed  that  more  sad  accidents  happen 
to  young  persons,  while  seeking  their  pleasure  on 
God's  Holy  Day,  than  by  any  other  means.  A 
great  proportion  of  the  cases  of  drowning,  among 
3oys,  occur  on  the  Sabbath.  One  fine  summer's 
morning,  two  sprightly  young  lads  started  for 
the  Sabbath  School ;  but  they  were  met  on  the 
way  by  some  rude  boys,  who  persuaded  them  to 
go  and  play  with  them  by  the  side  of  the  river. 
They  hesitated  for  some  time,  instead  of  resolutely 
saying  "  No,"  to  the  first  temptation.  When  they 
yielded,  it  was  with  troubled  consciences,  for  they 
were  well  instructed  at  home.  They  played 
about  the  river  for  some  time,  when  one  of  them, 
venturing  too  near,  fell  into  the  water,  which  was 
deep.     His  companions  were  too  much  frightened 


THE    SABBATH.  135 

to  give  him  any  assistance,  and  he  Mas  carried 
away  by  the  rapid  current  and  drowned.  Thus 
were  these  two  boys  punished  for  their  disobedi- 
ence to  God  and  their  parents. 

But  one  Sabbath  in  the  week. 

A  person  being  invited  to  go  on  an  excursion 
for  pleasure,  on  the  Holy  Sabbath,  replied,  "  I 
should  like  an  excursion  very  well ;  but  I  have 
but  one  Sabbath  in  the  week,  and  I  can't  spare 
that."  This  expresses  an  important  truth  in  an 
impressive  manner.  When  we  have  but  one  day 
in  the  week  exclusively  devoted  to  the  concerns 
of  eternity,  while  six  are  devoted  to  the  affairs 
of  time,  can  we  spare  that  one  day  for  pleasure  ? 
It  is  the  best  of  the  seven.  It  is  worth  more 
than  all  the  rest.  If  rightly  employed,  it  will 
bring  us  a  richer  return.  What  we  can  earn  in 
the  six  days  is  perishable  ;  but  the  fruits  of  a 
well-spent  Sabbath  will  endure  for  ever.  The 
Sabbath,  when  properly  spent,  is  the  day  for  the 
highest  kind  of  enjoyment.  If,  therefore,  you 
would  seek  pleasure,  you  can  better  aiford  to  take 
any  other  day  in  the  week  for  it,  than  to  take  the 
holy  Sabbath. 


136 


Section  III.  —  Early  piety  recommended. 


MAN  eighty-seven  years  of 
age,    meeting     another    aged 
man  not  quite  as  old  as  him- 
self, the  other  inquired  of  him 
how  long  he  had  been  interest- 
ed in  religion.     "Fifty  years," 
was     the     old    man's    reply. 
"  Well,  have  you  ever  regret- 
ted  that  you  began  so   young   to 
devote  yourself  to  God  ?  "     "0  no," 
said   he ;    and   the    tears    trickled 
clown  his  checks.     "  I  weep  when  I 
think  of  the  sins  of  my  youth." 

Another  man  between  sixty  and 
seventy  years  of  age,  said,  "  I  hope  I 
became  a  disciple  of  the  Lord  when 
I  was  seventeen  ;  and  he  burst  into  a  flood  of 
tears  as  he  added,  "  and  there  is  nothing  which 
causes  me  so  much  distress  as  to  think  of  those 
seventeen  years  —  some  of  the  very  best  portion 
of  my  life,  —  which  I  devoted  to  sin  and  the 
world." 


EARLY     PIETY. 


137 


This  was  the  experience  of  David,  who,  in  his 
old  age,  prayed,  "  Remember  not,  O  Lord  the 
sins  of  my  youth."  And  it  will  be  the  reader's 
experience,  should  he  ever  be  brought  to  a 
knowledge  of  the  truth,  after  giving  the  flower  of 
his  days  to  the  service  of  sin  and  Satan. 


M- 


Danger  of  delay. 

-  was  an  impenitent  youth.     His 


friend,  who  had  just  embraced  the  Saviour,  in  the 
ardor  of  his  first  love,  besought  him  to  turn  to 
the  Lord.  He  acknowledged  the  great  import- 
ance of  the  things  which  were  urged  upon  his 
attention  ;  and  said  that,  long  before,  the  Spirit 
of  God  had  called  upon  him,  and  he  was  "  almost 
12* 


138  EARLY  PIETY. 

persuaded  to  be  a  Christian."  Once  he  stood 
almost  on  the  threshhold  of  heaven.  "  But 
now,"  said  he,  "  I  am  fallen,  fallen  —  0  how  far  ! 
I  know  that  I  am  not  a  Christian  now.  I  am  a 
great  sinner.  I  have  quenched  the  Holy  Spirit. 
If  I  should  die  as  I  am,  I  know  I  shall  be  eter- 
nally lost,  for  I  believe  the  Bible.  You  may 
think,  because  I  am  so  careless  now,  I  shall  die 
unconverted.  But  no,  I  have  more  thoughts 
about  death  than  many  suppose.  /  mean  to  re- 
pent before  I  die,  and  become  a  Christian.  I  can- 
not think  of  dying  as  I  now  am ;  but  you  need 
not  be  concerned  about  me,ybr  /  mean  to  repent 
yet."  Not  many  days  afterwards,  he  was  cross- 
ing a  river,  with  a  number  of  others,  for  the  pur- 
pose of  spending  the  day  in  amusement.  The 
skiff  upset,  and  they  were  plunged  into  the  wa- 
ter.    All  the  rest  of  the  company  but  A (who 

was  the  best  swimmer  among  them),  reached  the 
shore.  He  was  heard,  as  he  struggled  towards 
the  bank,  to  utter  a  fearful  oath,  calling  upon 
God  to  damn  his  soul.  God  took  him  at  his 
word.  He  sunk  to  rise  no  more  —  a  fearful 
warning  on  those  who  presume  on  future  repent- 
ance! 


139 


Section  IV.  —  Uncertainty  of  Life, 


■  Go  to  now,  ye  that  say,  To-day  or  to-morrow  we  will  go  into  such  ft 
«ity,  and  continue  there  a  year,  and  buy,  and  sell,  and  get  gain  : 

'•  Whereas  ye  know  not  what  shall  be  on  the  morrow.  For  what  15  your 
Bfe  ?  It  is  even  a  vapour,  that  appeareth  for  a  little  time  and  then  van- 
^sheth  away. 

u  For  that  ye  ought  to  say,  if  the  Lord  will,  we  shall  live,  and  do  this,  or 
that."  —James  iv.  13,  14,  15. 


<8W8££! 


WRi 


N  Friday,  the  Editor  of  the 
New-York    Commercial    Ad- 
vertiser, met  a  Mr.  Storrs  in 
the  street  and  requested  from 
him  an  account  of  an  Indian 
adventure  which  he  had  heard 
him   relate.     Mr.    Storrs    re- 
jCS^.  plied,  "  I  am   going   to    Xew 
Haven   in   the    morning.      I    will 
write  it  there  and  bring  it  down  for 
ou  on  Monday.     You  shall  have 


on  Monday."  These  were  his 
last  words.  On  Monday  he  was  buri- 
ed. Such  is  the  uncertainty  of  all 
human  calculations  !  Let  the  busi- 
ness of  the  day  be  done  to-day ;  for  no 
one  is  sure  of  to-morrow.  Especially  let  the 
great  business  of  life  always  be  done,  and  then 
6udden  death  need  not  be  dreaded. 


T4 


140  UNCERTAINTY    OF   LIFE. 


Sudden  death  of  an  impenitent  sinner. 

On  a  cold  day  in  the  middle  of  winter,  a  car- 
riage drove  up  to  a  minister's  house  and  he  was 
summoned  to  attend  the  death-bed  of  a  young 
man,  who,  in  the  midst  of  life  and  health  had 
been  just  struck  down  by  a  violent  kick  from  a 
horse,  and  was  not  expected  to  live  more  than  a 
few  hours.  The  blow  had  broken  his  skull  boney 
and  cut  out  a  piece  as  large  as  the  palm  of  his 
hand,  presenting  a  ghastly  and  horrible  sight. 

When  the  minister  arrived,  he  found  him 
just  recovering  his  senses.  The  physician  came 
goon  after,  and  decided  that  there  was  no  hope 
of  saving  his  life.  The  minister,  after  saying  a 
few  words,  and  engaging  in  prayer,  proposed  to 
retire  for  a  short  time,  to  give  the  young  man  a 
little  rest.  "  No,  no,''  he  exclaimed,  "  do  not 
leave  me  for  a  moment.  I  have  but  a  short  time 
to  live,  and  I  dare  not  die  as  I  am.  0  what  shall 
1  do  ?  Tell  me  quickly  before  the  light  of  rea- 
son forsakes  me." 

"  James,"  said  the  minister,  "  there  is  but  ono 
way  in  which  a  sinner  can  be  saved,  and  that  is, 
by  faith  in  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ ;  —  whether  ars 


NOVEL-KEADIXG.  141 

hour  only,  or  years  be  allowed  you,  the  only  way 
for  you  to  secure  salvation  is,  by  casting  yourself 
unreservedly  into  the  Saviour's  hand.  Only  his 
blood  can  save  you  ;  and  you  are  welcome  now, 
this  moment.  All  things  are  ready  —  come 
now." 

The    young  man,  with  a  look  of  anguish,  re- 
plied, "  Do  you  remember,  sir,  when  I  was  putting 
up  some  shelves  in  your  study,  eight  months  ago, 
that  you  asked  me  to  stop,  while  you  talked  with 
me  about  religion,  and  prayed  for  me  ?     It  was 
then  that  I  felt  that  I  was  a  sinner,  and  after  go- 
ing home,  I  endeavored   to  pray  for  myself,  and 
determined  that  I  would*  seek  religion.     Two  or 
three  days,  these  feelings  continued ;  when,  un- 
happily for  me,  I  took  up  a  book,  which  I  had 
commenced  reading  before  our  conversation,  and 
though  conscience   remonstrated,  I  went  on  and 
finished  it.     My  feelings  were  much  enlisted  in 
the    story,  but  when    I    got  through   I  had  no 
disposition  to  pray ;  and  my  anxiety  about  reli- 
gion was  gone.     I    resumed    novel-reading,  of 
which  I   had  been  very  fond,  and  compromised 
with  my  conscience,  by  resolving  that  at  the  end 
of  one  year  I  would  throw  all  such  books   aside, 
and   seek   the    salvation  of  my  soul.     Only  ^vo 
thirds  of  that  year  are   gone,   and  here  I  am  dy- 
ing !     Fool,  fool  that  I  was,  to  sell  my  soul  for  a 


142  SUDDEN    DEATH. 

novel  —  to  prefer  the  excitement  of  an  idle  tale 
to  the  joys  of  religion." 

The  minister  begged  him,  whatever  had  been 
his  past  folly  and  guilt,  to  look  to  Christ  for  the 
forgiveness  of  all.  But  while  he  was  speaking, 
the  young  man's  reason  began  to  fail.  In  a  short 
time  he  was  delirious.  "  Fool,  fool !  "  he  would  ex- 
claim, at  intervals,  and  this  was  all  he  said.  In 
this  state  of  mind,  death  overtook  him,  four  months 
before  the  period  arrived,  to  which  he  had  put  off 
attention  to  the  concerns  of  his  soul  —  a  sad  warn- 
ing to  those  who  defer  this  first  and  great  concern  ! 

Sudden  Death  pf  a  Christian, 

William  G.  was  a  young  man  in  vigorous 
health  and  of  ardent  temperament,  with  great 
energy  of  character.  His  office  was  that  of  a 
brake  man  upon  the  Railroad.  A  long  line  of 
freight  cars  had  been  delayed  a  few  minutes  be- 
hind the  time,  and  must  hasten  to  reach  the  turn- 
out in  season  for  the  passenger  train,  which  was 
expected  to  pass  in  a  few  moments.  Two  cars 
were  to  be  detached ;  which,  by  a  dexterous 
movement,  could  be  done  without  entirely  stop- 
ping the  train.  The  moment  the  engine  is  slack- 
ened, the  cars  behind  will  gain  a  little  upon  those 
in  front,  when  the  connecting  pin  can  be  removed, 
and  the  hinder  cars  detached.     This  the  young 


CALMNESS    IX    DEATPI.  143 

man  had  often  done  before,  and  he  sprang  for- 
ward with  alacrity  to  perform  it  now.  But,  in 
the  path  lay  a  pebble,  so  small  as  to  escape  no- 
tice, and  yet  large  enough,  as  he  stepped  rapidly 
backwards,  to  throw  him  prostrate  on  the  track, 
while  the  heavy-laden  cars  passed  on  over  his 
body.  It  was  the  work  of  an  instant,  but  it  was 
done.  There  lay,  mangled  and  writhing,  the 
young  man,  who,  not  one  moment  before,  was 
buoyant,  healthful,  full  of  enterprise  and  hope. 
There  was  no  hope  of  his  life.  With  one  arm 
extended,  the  only  unbroken  limb  in  his  body,  he 
speaks  :  "  I  must  die  —  I  know  it  —  I  must  die, 
but  thank  God  I  am  ready  to  die.  Yes,  I  am 
willing  to  die,  if  it  is  God's  will.  And  yet,  I 
should  like  to  live.  My  poor  mother  —  who  will 
take  care  of  her?  My  poor  sisters — and  oh, 
my  poor  dear  Mary!  Send  for  them  —  send  for 
them.  Send  now.  I  must  see  them  once  more. 
I  have  much  to  say  to  them.  Oh,  my  God, 
thy  will  be  done!"  They  came,  and  there 
was  such  a  burst  of  grief  as  is  seldom  wit- 
nessed. Yet,  amid  all  this,  he  was  calm.  Not 
a  groan,  not  a  murmur  had  escaped  him  through 
the  long  hours  of  bodily  suffering  which  he 
had  endured,  and  not  a  murmur  nor  a  groan 
did  he  suffer  now,  when  the  heart-strings  were 
broken.     He  spoke  calmly  and  clearly  to  them 


144  CALMNESS    IN   DEATH. 

all,  gave  them  counsel,  bade  each  a  tender  fare- 
well; then  closed  his  eyes,  and  sunk  into  the 
sleep  of  death.  What  would  this  scene  have 
been  without  the  Christian  hope  ?  This  young 
man  had  anchored  his  hope  firm  upon  the  Rock 
of  Ages.  It  had  supported  him  in  the  busy 
scenes  of  life.  It  now  sustained  him  in  the  sud- 
den hour  of  trial,  when  the  pains  of  death  seized 
upon  him  without  warning.     "  Let  me  die  the 

DEATH  OF  THE  RIGHTEOUS,  AND  LET  MY  LAST 
END  BE  LIKE  HIS  !  " 


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